Shadowtales (Shadows over Gotham)
by shadowsteed
Summary: A new doctor comes to work at Arkham Asylum with her good friend Harleen Quinzel. But what will happen if they both, in their attempt to find friendship here, find love instead? (a rewrite of my original story Shadows over Gotham)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So hallo everybody, I haven't been on this site in a while, but now I'm back. If the title of this story seems a little familiar to you, you are not mistaken. Since I have, a little while ago, purchased my own PS4, which allowed me to finally play the Arkham Knight game, and also because my writing has improved a bit over the years, I decided to rewrite my Arkham stories and then continue where I originally stopped._

_I'm not planning to change much about the story of those fanfics, most of it will remain the same, but some things that, in retrospect, I think I could have written differently will be changed to form a slightly better written story while still being the original concept. It is also aimed to make The Shadow a slightly better character, and I hope I will succeed in both of my goals. So here we go… :) I'll be happy if you leave a comment how you like this new version, and those of you who are new to this series, welcome. :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the DC Comics or anything in it..._

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 1.**

I think it would a good idea, before I start my story, to ask myself a single question: why exactly am I writing this? I ponder this question as I'm sitting here years after this actually started, and I can't for the life of me come up with a good answer. Is it because I feel the need to pour all the emotions my life led me to into something other than my late night tears? Or because I want to justify my actions, if only in front of myself? No. I think the reason I'm writing these records of previous events is that I want to understand it all, everything that actually since that fateful day when I first stepped on the island's shores. Was it mostly me, or did I do it because of her? I have known Harleen Quinzel for so many years before we even came here, and yet I wasn't able to stop anything that followed. I now know that, partly, I did not want to stop it, after all, she was happy with that crazy clown, and I? I had my own things to worry about. To tell the truth, I can't help but feel we have both made the same mistake, succumbing to our feelings, and it send both our lives spiraling to the depths of the unknown.

But well, let me start my story from the beginning.

My name is Katherine Jones, I was born in London and I moved to Gotham when I was 25. I left my parents in London, but, by that time, I haven't lived with them for a while anyway, through no fault of mine. For a time I kept in contact with them, but in later years that gradually faded away. I never had a boyfriend, never met a one who wouldn't be too annoying or utterly, unbearably simple in his mind. I never wanted a boyfriend to just have a boyfriend, I wanted someone special, a soulmate, someone who I will look at and know that this is the one.

Later I started studying psychology at the local university and it was there where I met a certain Harleen Quinzel. She was determined to be the best, and yet at the same time, to me she still managed to be the best friend I ever had. We were like sisters at that time, actually we often played a little game, just for ourselves, that we actually were sisters, and with our blond hair and blue eyes, we actually looked very similar in appearance too, though in character we were always different. She was the one who would always jump head over heels into everything, while I was the shy, quiet person in the corner, not much of a sociable type, often bullied by the school's… less pleasant characters. You'd think in a place like this people were actually grown up, but I guess there are exceptions everywhere. But Harley was always there for me, always my protector, and when we finished the university we were looking for a place to work together.

When we heard that they had a few free doctor positions in Arkham Asylum, we were both pretty excited. It was a dream come true, at least for Harley, who I knew was always fascinated with the criminal minds, to the point when I was sometimes worried about her. I found it a little weird at first that they accepted us without having any previous experience at such a job, but hearing about Arkham I realised that there probably never was enough available doctors at the facility, with many of them leaving after finding the job way above their heads.

It was the beginning of September when we first stepped through the asylum gates and I must say I was immediately affected by the strange, chilling atmosphere of the place. The asylum was an enormous set of old, gloomy, dilapidated buildings, that not even in daylight had managed to look any more reassuring. I would learn to love that place later, but that first day we were just standing there, shaking in the cold wind, with the building glaring at us like they didn't want us there.

We made our way over to the Penitentiary, where we were supposed to meet someone from the asylum to give us a little introduction tour, and there was indeed a female doctor waiting for us in front of the doors. It was an older lady who introduced herself to us as doctor Gretchen Whistler, her German accent quite strong as she spoke. She, however, seemed like a person I might actually get along with, which made me feel slightly better about my first day there. She took us inside and led us a through a series of narrow corridors until we arrived to a large hall full of cells with thick, glass paned sides with heavy security doors at the front. Immediately we both became really curious. This was the place where the patients were kept. The doctor stopped there and without even looking at her, I could almost feel Harley's excitement as she was having a hard time stopping herself from hopping around like a girl in front of a Christmas tree. It was quite amusing to watch her until I saw the displeased look at the older doctor's face.

"Here we are." doctor Whistler said, still glaring at my friend. "This is what the cells look like. I took you here, because there are some of the patients you'll be seeing here, so I thought you'd like to get to know the area. But before we continue, I'd like to ask you both a question, if it doesn't bother you." she said, clearing her throat. "Forgive me for saying it, but you are basically just out of school, why do you want to work here of all places?" she stared at us both, expecting an answer.

I smiled warmly as I turned to her. "It's perfectly alright, doctor. I imagine we should probably get used to hearing this question. But I always found the notion of working in this place rather fascinating. I was always interested in the differences and the difficulties of the criminal mind and the way such minds work. I think it is a very intriguing subject."

"Yeah, that's right." Harley said and beamed at the doctor sweetly. "You can't deny there is an element of certain glamour to these supercriminals." she continued speaking, seemingly unaffected by the fact that the good doctor did not seem to share her enthusiasm, and I stopped listening and just walked along the cells, watching the patients through the glass. There were many low security patients in these cells, poor souls that entered the criminal life and then were thrown in here for eternity. But then I rounded the corner and I realised I ended up in the corridor meant for the really special cases, those well-known criminals who were almost like icons of this city, kinda like the man who got them there, the Batman.

Of course I heard of the city's famous "protector". I didn't want to believe it first, until I saw him with my own eyes, and then well, I like bats, that's true, but he didn't impress me as much as it seemed to be expected of me. But still, at that time, I was of course grateful for his protection and all that he did for the city.

Suddenly, I stopped in front of one of the cells. There, a man was sitting on a small metal bed. The moment I stopped to look at him properly, he turned his head towards me and stared back with icy blue eyes that held mine for a moment, it was quite unnerving to look into them, and he must have noticed, because in the next moment, an amused smirk appeared on his face before he went back to his own thoughts. He emanated power and great intelligence, and when I finally managed to tear my eyes away from him, I glanced at the little plate next to the door.

JONATHAN CRANE

The name was somehow familiar, and yet I couldn't remember which one of the famous Rogues Gallery this one was, so I decided to ask the doctor, when I heard her and Harley's footsteps behind me. "Making acquaintances, doctor Jones?" she smiled at me, but there was something, and underlying anger or annoyance. I felt like we didn't make the best first impression, but I decided to let it go. "Yes, doctor." I smiled back, and took a breath to ask my question. "Would you be so kind to tell me…?" I began, but she interrupted me with a wave of her hand. "I'm very sorry, but I have no more time to talk. I have a session in half an hour and I have to go prepare. Come with me, I will show you the way to the mansion."

As we were approaching the passage leading back out of the building, Harley looked into one of the cells and suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Inside was a man that no one could confuse with any other patient in Arkham, the white skin, green hair and that smile that always lingered on his face was simply unmistakable. Harley seemed at a loss for words and I watched as she, as if hypnotised, slowly approached the glass and stared inside. The Joker. The was probably no one in the world who never heard of him and his crimes. Seeing him now in person, even behind the unbreakable glass was agitating, yet fascinating, though more for Harley than for me as she was staring at him with a mixture of amusement and interest in her look, and thought we were lucky that he was currently sleeping, or seemed to be. Then I heard a deep sigh behind us doctor Whistler finally voiced her concerns: "I must warn you," she began. "You should be very careful or those patients will eat you for breakfast. And some of them," she said as she looked at me meaningfully. "will really enjoy it." Then she turned and caught her glancing to the same cell I was looking at before continuing down the corridor. I wanted to try and ask her again but she raised her hand and stopped me. "Follow me, I really don't have much time left. You don't want to leave anything to chance when you have a session with Victor Zsasz."

She led us through the grounds and a huge mechanical doors to the eastern part of the island, dominated by the imposing silhouette of the Arkham Mansion. It was a huge, old and somewhat beautiful giant of a building that, on its own, commanded respect. Doctor Whistler led them to the main doors and then turned to depart. "Very well, I will leave you here, just walk through the hall, up the stairs and enter the door to the right wing, then follow the corridor to the warden's office. He will provide you with more information before you begin. It was really nice meeting you." she said with a slight smile, and walked away, leaving us to our own devices. After a while we entered the building and found our way through its spacious halls and corridors. The office was a large, nicely decorated room with a great fireplace facing the door and a large desk in a corner. Behind it sat the warden, an older man with white hair on his balding head and thick glasses on his cold eyes. There was something about him that I didn't like at all, but now as we entered he stood up and smiled warmly as he looked at us.

"Doctor Jones, doctor Quinzel, welcome, welcome, I've been expecting you. I am glad that I have the opportunity to personally welcome you to the asylum." he went to shake our hands, and I had to keep myself from shuddering as I did so. I had a seriously bad feeling about this man, but at that time, I wasn't able to put my finger on what it was. He spoke to us a long time after that introduction, providing us with necessary instructions and then he gave us our schedules and keys to our offices. It seemed everything that was needed was said, but as we meant to leave the room he cleared his throat and spoke: "I must warn you ladies. I don't know why you wanted to work here, but it was your choice to do so, and everything that will now happen is on your responsibility, even though we can provide you with certain protection, nothing is guaranteed in a facility like this. In case you feel the need to leave us, you have to know that we cannot possibly pay you for an unfinished work. I wish good luck to you both."

With those words we left his office and the building as well, and in a few moments we found ourselves sitting on one of the benches outside, looking over our schedules. Before I had time to even properly look at mine thought, my ears were assaulted by Harley's excited screaming. "Oh my good, look, I got the Joker! Katherine, look!"

She put that paper right under my nose, and sure enough, on the little spot where the name of the patient was usually written were those five letters that brought terror into so many hearts, yet seemed to send my friend into a fit of joy. I instead rolled my eyes and remarked: "I'm not sure if I would consider that a reason to be happy."

"Well, you're not much more lucky yourself." there was suddenly a voice behind us and I turned around to see a young man, about the same age as us, looking over my shoulder and onto my schedule. "You have the Scarecrow." He said in a compassionate tone and sat down next to us on the bench. "Sorry for startling you. I am doctor Thomas, Ryan Thomas, and you are?"

I looked at him, for some reason, not utterly thrilled at his presence, but Harley spoke first. "I am Harleen Quinzel, but call me Harley, everyone does. This is my friend, Katherine Jones." She waved at him slightly, and he smiled. "Oh, so you are the new doctors? News travels fast, you know, but I certainly didn't expect you to be so beautiful." he said, winking at me.

"Thank you," I answered, not blushing. "But can you tell me who the Scarecrow is?" I asked casually, and his eyes widened in disbelief as he reached for my schedule and pointed to a name. "There, I can't believe you don't know him. You should definitely read his file at least. They should be prepared for you at your offices." I looked down at the schedule and gasped as I saw he was pointing at a familiar name that saw earlier today. Now I realised why it was so familiar in the first place. Of course I heard of the infamous Scarecrow, and I'd certainly never even dreamed of having a session with him. To think just an hour ago I was only a few steps away from him…

This however, I did not voice to the young man in front of me. Instead, I asked: "Is he really that bad?" and watched as doctor Thomas nodded vigorously. "Yes, he is, he's one of the worst. See, he was a scientist here at Gotham University, a professor of psychology specialising in fear and phobias, but then he was kicked out when the found out he was doing experiments on humans. He invented this so called fear gas that makes people hallucinate, see their worst nightmares come to life." he shook his head to calm himself down. "I don't understand why would they give our most dangerous criminals to newbies like you, no offense. I know that nobody wants to deal with them, but I didn't realise we were so incredibly understaffed." he almost growled in anger and looked at me once again. "Look, you just need to be very careful. Crane's very dangerous and he loves to mess with people's heads. This is a friendly warning. And… if you needed someone to talk you, don't hesitate to come to me." he smiled kindly, and I returned the gesture before standing up.

"Well thank you, for your advice, I surely will. Harley," I spoke, turning to my friend. "I'm sure you want to go home, but I'd really like to stay here for a little while longer and read those files, if you don't mind going home alone."

"Not at all." Harley laughed, obviously still very happy. "But hey, your work starts earlier than mine tomorrow, so I won't see you in the morning. Call me after your last session and we can have some dinner together."

"Great idea." I smiled at her and then turned to Ryan, nodding to him. "It was very nice meeting you. I hope we'll see each other again." I said, and we exchanged a one last smile before I went back into the mansion to search for my office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 2.**

The next morning, much to my surprise, I woke up in my office. When I left Harley yesterday evening I went to the mansion to find my office, and when, after a while of searching I had finally managed to do so I was actually quite pleasantly surprised. It was not a big room, but a rather cozy one, there was a desk and a chair, a small sofa and an armchair and several cabinets and closets lined against the wall, everything I would require while being here. And, just as dr. Thomas said, all the necessary documents were already on the desk, along with the one I wanted to see the most - the file of one doctor Jonathan Crane.

I spend a lot of time reading through my patient's files that day. Aside from several "ordinary" patients, not only did I get the Scarecrow, but also three others, Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, Pamela Isley, also known as Poison Ivy, and Victor Fries, who was known in the criminal underworld as Mr. Freeze. His story, in particular, made me feel really sad, I felt he'd rather deserve to get help instead of the judgement he was getting for his actions. He certainly didn't deserve to be in Arkham, and I was determined to treat him with as much kindness possible.

From all I've gathered from these files, I realised how fascinating bunch of people they held in this place, dangerous people with many of them being the products of some violent and tragic events, but fascinating nonetheless, some having a really intriguing view of the world around them. I really hoped to meet as many of these people I could. But none of them has managed to catch my interest as much as Jonathan Crane. A former professor of psychology, a respected doctor and a brilliant scientist, turned into a dangerous criminal obsessed with fear, a man who loved making other feel that fear, it was all incredibly fascinating to my eyes, and I was really eager to talk to him, even if I knew it would not be easy.

After I have read through the files thoroughly, I decided to give myself a little tour around the place. I've met several other doctor along the way who surprisingly already knew my name (I guess news really do travel fast in Arkham), and the precise list of my patients, and I was surprised to know how many of them tried to take on his treatment and failed. They told me many things about him, trying to give me advice and I could see a lot of pity in their eyes as they did so.

As I made my way to the Intensive Treatment building, I was greeted by some medical doctors. I didn't envy them, they were always in a hurry, as there was always something who needed their attention, and I imagined it must have been really stressful having to deal with some of the more violent patients from time to time as well. I was walking through the building, making my way into the lower levels when I came into a small hallway with several holding cells. One of them was occupied, and curiously I came closer to see whose cell this was.

Inside was a man dressed entirely in green, but even if I wasn't able to recognise him for his attire, I would surely recognise who he was once I saw the unusual decoration of his cell. For its wall were, top to bottom, lined with question marks made with green paint. This was the Riddler, according to his words the smartest person in Gotham. He was currently leaning his back against the wall, his eyes closed, but he opened them when he heard my footsteps.

The first impression I got from him was that his rather nerdish appearance made him look like someone I would certainly loved to be friends with, but I knew that under that exterior hides a high level of intelligence, great amount of dark humour and a certain sense of sadism too. At the same time though I couldn't help but notice that there was a certain charm about him, with his handsome face framed with light brown hair, the eyes of the same colour, and a posture that radiated his never fading confidence.

I stepped to the cell and smiled at him. "Well hello, you must be the famous Riddler." I said lightly, and he smiled back, bowing a little. "In person. And who might you be?" he exclaimed, but then he raised his hands and added: "No, wait, let me tell. You're one of the two new doctors we have!" He said, and I laughed as I, for some reason, felt the need to clap my hands. "Very good! I am doctor Jones, Katherine Jones. You can call me Katherine if you want."

"Hmm, well then, Katherine." the Riddler spoke, putting an emphasis on my name. "Can I give you a riddle? Just a small one." He stared at me in joyful expectation. I was aware that it was never a good idea to let him start with his riddles, but if was going to help set up a friendly air between us, I was happy to oblige him, and I nodded. "Riddle me this," he started immediately. "What is it that walks on four legs, then on two legs, and finally on three legs?" I frowned as I tried to think what might me a satisfying answer. It was a well known riddle and so the answer should have been of course, obvious, but this was the Riddler, and he always played his games by his own rules. The easiest way to please him was to acknowledge when you're out of your league.

"Well done, Riddler." I said, and looked at him with a smile. "You got me. I know I could probably tell you the "official" answer, but something tells me that one couldn't be further from being the correct one. So… what is the correct answer?" I leaned towards him, putting into my voice just the right amount of enthusiastic curiosity, which he rewarded with a satisfied smirk and a slow clapping of his own.

"Well, well, Katherine, you didn't manage to answer my riddle, but it's nice to see you are perhaps not such a complete idiot as I first thought you were, like the other people I have to put up with in this pitiful excuse for an asylum. By the way, since you so graciously allowed me to be on a first name basis with you, and you have shown a remarkable spark of intellectual potential, you may call me Edward, but only in private please. In other, more professional settings, please adress me as either mr. Nigma, or the Riddler, if you please. As for my riddle, the correct answer is… a baby! Sure it walks on all fours, but cut off its legs and it will only crawl on two, give it a crutch it will hobble around on three. But you don't have to feel too devastated by your failure, I can tell you that no one has ever got the answer right." he said with a smile.

I couldn't help but laugh when he told me the answer. I know that I should have been rather horrified by it, but truth be told, I was always equipped with a slight sense of morbid humour. Perhaps it was fate's way of preparing me for a life spent in Gotham, where you needed to be used to this kind outlook on life no matter which side of the law you were on. Besides, his answer was certainly original, and I told him so as well. "But…" I continued, when I finally stopped laughing. "you do realise that such a riddle could possibly have about a hundred different possible answer, even if one was to figure out that the obvious one isn't correct?"

"Perhaps." he said, and winked at me mischievously. "But this one is the only right answer there is. Do you know why?"

"Because it's yours?"

"Exactly!"

After this encounter I excused myself, it was getting late, and initially, I wanted to go home before dark. At the end however, for some reason, when I got back to my office I decided to go through my files, rereading them once again. I guess I was still a little thrilled from my meeting with the Riddler, it was perhaps quite encouraging for me to have such a positive encounter on my first day here, and I realised just how much I liked his personality. Perhaps I should have been offended that he thought of me as an idiot, but then again I did understand that him saying that perhaps I wasn't an idiot after all was a huge expression of praise. I was almost a little flattered. Anyway, I guess I must have fallen asleep reading the documents, for when I woke up, I was still there and it was already morning.

The clock above my door said 8:30, it was still rather early, the first sessions were not to start until two hours later and my first session today with Poison Ivy was in 11, so I had plenty of time. Also on my schedule was an interview with the Scarecrow at 2 p.m., and a few mild non-criminal cases between those times that were not to take much of my time. I was eager to do some work here, a more importantly, after my yesterday's talk with the Riddler I was more than eager to meet the rest of Arkham's "special" patients.

As there was still some time before my session with Ivy, I decided to walk around a little to get more familiar with the environment. I was a bit hungry, but fortunately I had a sandwich with me that I didn't have time to eat yesterday in all the excitement, so I took it in one hand and went to look for Harley first. She was nowhere to be found so I figured she hasn't arrived yet, and so slowly I made my way to the Penitentiary. Walking through the building I found Jonathan Crane's cell. He was in, still sleeping. He looked almost peaceful, yet I noticed that his brows were creased as if in a slight worry. It was hard to imagine what kind of dreams or rather nightmares the Scarecrow was going through, but I didn't think it a good idea to wake him up at this point. I watched him carefully as his chest slowly rose and fell with his breath. He looked older than he probably was, somewhere in his forties probably, and he was rather thin and pale, but looking at his face I still found his features rather handsome. He had a short, brown hair, almost ginger, but not quite, and sleeping like this he didn't at all look like one of the most dangerous criminal that ever walked through the streets of Gotham.

By that time it was nearing eleven, and I had to make my way to Ivy's cell. On my way there, I passed several others that bore familiar names like Harvey Dent (that one specifically was slightly bigger than the others to my surprise), Arnold Wesker the Ventriloquist… or Victor Zsasz. His cell was made specifically stronger with several additional security measures installed so it was absolutely certain he did not have a chance of escaping. Presently he was not inside, so I stepped closer to inspect the cell carefully. At that time, as I stared inside the bare room with a mixture of fear and intrigue, I had no idea about the unique relationship I will eventually forge with the killer, and frankly, even years later I still can't figure out what it was about me that piqued his interest in me and made him consider me a friend rather than prey, but we will get to that later.

I continued through another passage until I arrived to a specially made cell in a center of larger circular hallway that sort of reminded me of a greenhouse. There were two guards standing on either side of the cell door equipped with gas masks. Inside the cell I saw a very beautiful woman, her skin having a soft, green shade of colour with bright red hair. She was wearing barely anything more but a simple red jacket and, sitting on the ground, she was lovingly nursing a single red rose in a flower pot. It was undoubtedly Poison Ivy.

As soon as I approached the cell, one of the guards stepped forward to stop me, addressing me with not necessarily strict but definitely urgent voice. "What are you doing here miss?" he said. "This is not a safe place to be, most definitely not anywhere around this area." While he spoke, I watched as the woman inside looked up from her flower and eyed the situation outside with mild interest. Our eyes met for a second, and I saw that her eyes were glowing with a bright, venomous shade of green. I smiled at her softly and held the look for a while, until I was required to answer the guard's question. "Oh. that's alright officer, I am her new psychiatrist. We are about to have our first session in…" I paused long enough to look at my watch. "¨fifteen minutes. I didn't think it would be a problem if I come a little earlier, unless she's otherwise occupied."

Hearing my words, Ivy gradually stood up, still clutching the flower pot in her hands, and approached the glass. She didn't speak, but watched as I, seeing the guards looking at themselves unconvinced, pulled my ID card. Seeing that, they finally stepped back, and moved to open the cell door. "I am sorry doctor Jones, we were not yet informed that there was a change of her doctor, though it's not a surprise. I mean, the doctors here are always changing patients every few weeks. Tough work spending time with these nutjobs, I guess." he shook his head as he realised he was rambling and smiled apologetically under his mask. "Anyway, are you sure you want to go with the session here? We can bring her up to your office if you'd prefer it." the offered, and I smiled but waved my hand dismissively. "No, no, gentlemen, that won't be necessary, I'm sure we'll be quite comfortable here. Just let me inside, please."

As soon as the guards unlocked the door and I stepped inside the cell, Poison Ivy smiled at me, her smile making her even more beautiful than she seemed before, and moved back into the centre of the cell. "Thank you, doctor." she spoke in a slow, deeply toned voice. "I appreciate you letting me stay here, they don't allow me to keep my babies outside of this… cage they call a cell." I nodded and smiled and looked down at the flower she was holding. It had the same red colour as her hair. "I figured as much, I understand why you wouldn't want to part with it, it's a beautiful flower. Shall we?" I said, and I sat in the middle of the cell. She gracefully lowered herself next to me, softly stroking the red petals. "And please, Ivy, call me Katherine…" I began, but then I stopped, and glanced at her carefully. "Can I call you Ivy? Or would you prefer miss Isley? Whatever is more comfortable for you, but I like that name a lot more."

"Of course you can just call me Ivy, Katherine." she smiled brightly. "Your visit here is most welcome, you are a woman after all, that is always a pleasant change for me, and my little baby here. Not that I don't like enjoying a little fun with a male doctor from time to time, they are just so easy to manipulate, but they are also so annoyingly dull and uncaring in their typical male fashion." she sighed wearily and then looked at me, cocking her head to the side. "You actually look like someone with whom I might actually get along. You look like a really gentle person who might understand the importance of my work."

She gently set the potted plant on the ground next to her. It was a really beautiful flower, and I carefully reached with my hand to touch its soft bloom, when I saw the look on Ivy's face. She seemed concerned, agitated, like a mother guarding its child, but she didn't react as I gently stroked the petals and after a while, she visibly relaxed and simply watched, until I pushed the plant back towards her with a soft smile. I didn't look up until I heard her voice again.

"You really do like nature, don't you, Katherine?" she asked me then, and I nodded, smiling. "I do." I said. "I love nature, I prefer animals, to tell you do truth, but plants are living creatures too, beautiful, important living creatures that just live their lives differently, much slower. Their lives matter too, and I truly believe your mission is important, but the moral issues of it we could discuss on a on for hours."

"What moral issues are you talking about, Katherine? I am no longer human." she said, in a calm tone that I greatly appreciated, as confronting her about this was not something I looked forward to, but I understood it was necessary.

"I know you are not, and I know you don't feel like you're a part of this society anymore, but the truth is you were once. And I know that it feels like it's easier to just get rid of the people of the whole planet, it probably is." I looked at her, trying to speak as gently as I can. "But I am also sure you understand that no good things truly come easily. There is no doubt about the fact that most of humanity is as corrupted and wicked as you say, but there are exceptions, you know that."

She looked at me then, and we stared at each other for a good minute before she conceded. "I can see you truly mean what you say, but I do not think that the few humans that are exceptions to human depravity is a reason good enough to spare them all. Not when so many innocent lives are at risk."

I of course realised that by "innocent lives" she meant the plants, and perhaps animals as I dared to hope, and I shook my head. "And I am not talking about sparing humanity." I said, and watched as, in the corner of my eye, one of the guards turned around a glared in my direction. "I'm just saying that perhaps, if such a time ever comes that the plants will once again rule the Earth, wouldn't you at least consider sparing some of the people that would never even dream about hurting nature? I'm not talking about myself namely, but there are people in this world actively working to ensure nature is taken care of and protected. Humanity is not perfect, but some of them are actually trying to fix their mistakes, even though it seems like a lost fight." I paused, and looked out at the guards. "I wonder why are they wearing those gas masks?" I asked, more to myself than to her, but she still heard the question and laughed before answering. "Oh, they are worried for their primitive brains. You see, thanks to my special abilities I am able to produce pheromones that makes it easy for me to control the male population of this planet." she smirked, and added. "That's why you're here, after all. They are always quite relieved when they have a female doctor to send my way."

I smiled, nodding. "Yes, I've read that in your file. Tell me, is it something similar to the pheromones produced by insects?"

"Pretty much, yes, but these are plant based."

We continued talking then, I spend with her as much time as I had before I needed to head to another session, and during this time I opted to not speak anymore of the "practical" problems of her chosen line of work. I wanted to give her some time to think about what I said in peace after I left. Instead, we talked about her and me, me generally giving her the opportunity to talk about her plants to someone who actually listened to her while she learned some things about me. She was actually a rather intelligent person, still interested in the world even though she spoke with a distinct indifference when it came to humans. But as the time for our lesson came to an end, she told me: "You see, Katherine, I am really glad you are here. There is something very different about you. You're not so unbearably preachy like the other psychiatrist meat sacks I had to talk to here. I think I will give some thought to what you told me today, but no promises." she said, and felt a sense of pride swell inside my chest at this little accomplishment. I smiled at her, and turned to leave, but before I could wave at the guards to open the door, she mumbled: "You know, this place could really use such a compassionate attitude as you have."

I turned around and spoke to her with concern: "What do you mean, Ivy? Is there something the matter?"

"Yes," she voiced, anger rising in her voice. "Have you seen the state of the garden? The state of the plants around here? This place would be so much better if they actually took care of the plants' needs." she almost hissed, and one of the guards outside put a hand on his holster preparing for trouble, but I looked at him and shook my head to calm him down. Then, I stepped closer and gently put a hand on Ivy's shoulder, careful not to scare her. "It must be very painful, being so connected to them like you are." I said sympathetically. "I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll see what can be done about the garden. In the meantime, I'll see if I can bring you some more flowers to keep you company." Her mood seemed to improve a little as she heard this and she thanked me, turning away to tend to her plant again, and, feeling satisfied, I walked out of the cell and left to continue my first day at Arkham Asylum.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So this is the new version of Katherine's first real meeting with the Scarecrow. When I first started writing this story it was with the thought that I really loved the Scarecrow, he has instantly become my favourite while I first played the Arkham Asylum game. During the following year I have seen many of his other incarnations, and his status as my favourite DC villain and probably a DC character never changed._

_Anyway, I have decided, as you probably noticed, to give him a different look in this new version, cause while I loved Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman trilogy, I've come to appreciate a lot more the brown haired comic book Scarecrow. :) Though, since I started playing the Arkham Knight game recently, I really wonder what the developers had in mind, it would be interesting to see what the Arkhamverse Scarecrow might look like if we could ever see him without the mask. Also, for this fanfiction, the Scarecrow's voice I hear is totally John Noble now. :D_

_So, I hope you like this chapter, I would really like to try to involve the Scarecrow in my stories a bit more, hopefully it will turn out well in the end. :) But let's not further delay._

_P.S. Atychiphobia - fear of failure_

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 3.**

By the time I was done with Poison Ivy, I had about about two hours to prepare for my first real opportunity to talk to the Scarecrow. Frankly, I couldn't wait to be able to have a conversation with him. Everything I read in his file on the previous day made me think that he must certainly be a very fascinating persons to talk to, him being the former renowned professor and a scientist he still was, talking to him was sure to be quite the experience. At the same time though, the closer the session was, the more nervous I became. I wasn't stupid after all, I knew who he was and what he tended to do to his psychiatrists, picking at them psychologically until he uncovered their greatest fears and them find the most efficient way to use it against them. Crane was a genius. I have already heard much about him here, and it made me all the more intrigued. At that time I just hoped that I'll be able to approach him carefully enough not to pique his professional interest, at least not right away. Respect, I believed, was the right way to go about it in this case.

Presently, though, I walked out of the Penitentiary enjoying the fresh air that the wind brought over from the ocean, and I looked around, glancing across the asylum grounds. I had to admit that Ivy was right, the desolate feel this place had was only intensified by the state those plants around the island had to languish in. Anywhere else you'd probably call it wild nature. Here… it just seemed depressing. And sadly, I highly doubted there was anything to do about this even if there was anyone willing to try and take care of it.

I was deeply in thought when I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see doctor Thomas running towards me with a smile plastered upon his face. "Doctor Jones!" he called and I looked at him with a smile of my own. "Oh hallo, doctor Thomas, how are you? I have just finished my first interview with Poison Ivy, I was just on my way to my office, I have some time before I have my first session with the Scarecrow." He stopped in front of me, and gradually the cheerful expression on his face melted into one of concern.

"Ah, I'm so sorry this happened to you. I honestly don't understand it, I can understand Poison Ivy, she usually takes a lot kinder to female doctors, but to give you the Scarecrow? And your friend, Harley, the Joker? That just isn't fair, they are both equally dangerous, both would just mess with your mind without any seconds thoughts." The anger he felt was pretty apparent from the look in his eyes, and I had to admit, it scared me a little bit, so I tried to reassure him.

"It's ok, don't worry about me. I have a lot of time, and a lot of patience, I'm sure in time we can get along." I said, trying to speak in conciliatory manner to calm him down. "Now why don't you accompany me to the Botanical Gardens, if you have the time? I would like to have a look around."

"Why not?" he nodded, smiling, and we slowly made our way back to the eastern part of the island and entered the building at it's northern corner that served as the asylum's garden. It was basically a giant greenhouse with several section with many different exotic types of plants and a giant cave-like area with several cages hanging from the ceiling housing several species of exotic birds. Though it was as neglected as the grounds outside, this place at least seemed rather beautiful, and I imagined that Ivy would quite love being in here. Being here proved to be rather good for my strained nerves, and as I looked around, I turned to by companion, speaking gently. "Isn't it beautiful here?" I asked, and I went to sit on a bench next to a large statue in one of the halls.

He turned to me, stood before me in front of the bench, his face suddenly solemn, as he said: "Did Ivy get to you after your first session already?" I laughed, but then I noticed the lack of humour in this face, and I eyed him carefully. "What do you mean?" I answered, looking at him rather incredulously. "I like her. She can be quite nice when you know how to talk to her. What patients do you have anyway?"

The look he gave me was one of bewilderment, as if he couldn't believe what I just said. I believe it was at this point that I decided I don't like him, but it was the following conversation that first made me want to bash his head with something. It went like this: "Well, if you mean the so called Rogue Gallery, then I have the Riddler. Annoying green bastard. He's always pestering with those annoying riddles of his. Sometimes, I would like to beat him with his own cane." I could practically feel the spark of anger as it rose within my chest at his words, but I kept it in, trying to comment on the situation with humour. "Oh, I can imagine talking to him must be annoying sometimes with his… unique personality." I said with a laugh. "But I do like him too, I talked to him yesterday after I met you, and he was actually quite nice. At least he's not that much of a killer as some of the others."

Suddenly, he exploded and I jerked back violently as he snapped: "What? Is that really what you think? Gosh, I don't want to frighten you, but you really need to be careful around these crazies. I am only doing this because I need the money, but as soon as I can, I'm out of here. I am warning you, they are all dangerous, deranged people, and you shouldn't be making friends with them, they may seem like they're friendly, but that's just their sick games, they're only doing this so they can get out of this place quicker. They stab you in the back the moment you let your guard down, trust me." He took a deep breath. "Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer. You wouldn't want to be late for your precious interview." With that last words he stormed out of the gardens, leaving me there alone. I sat there quietly for a few minutes, just processing what just happened, before I shook my head in disbelief, and left.

I went to my office and set there, having another 30 minutes before the session would start. I couldn't stop thinking about doctor Thomas hateful words. Was he just that afraid, or did he have some personal experience that prompted him to talk about the patients in such a way? I didn't know what his problem was, but his attitude was something I found just ridiculous. Surely they were criminals, and surely they needed to be kept under careful supervision, but there was no need to treat them with with anything else but kindness, especially when they displayed good behaviour in return. If this was how doctor Thomas talked to the Riddler in their sessions, than who could blame the green-clad man to be his usual unbearable self?

Such were the thoughts that followed me until the beginning of my session, and I berated myself for not taking the time to calm down before the coming of the Scarecrow. I knew he was surely going to notice my agitated state. Still, when I heard the long awaited knock on the door, I did my best to put on a smile and called: "Come in!"

The door to my office opened and revealed two guards leading my patients, grasping him firmly by his Arkham jacket. "Can we take him in, doctor?"

"Yeah, sure, I am ready for him." I said, noticing how Crane smirked at those words. Excellent start, Katherine, a mocking voice in my head said. Give him a reason to prove you wrong. "You can leave us now." I told to the guards, and they left hurriedly, as if they didn't want to be in one room with Crane anymore. I looked at them a little bemusedly, shaking my head, before I looked at Crane with a chuckle. "I know you enjoy these kind of things, but doesn't it get annoying after a while?" I said, risking a humorous jab into his fondness for intimidating others. It was, from my part, an attempt to start our conversation on a positive note, one that would give him a sense that I am actually personally interested in him, not just his treatment and whatever fame I may reap from it being successful. Which was, after all, true.

He looked at me with those blue eyes, probably trying to discern if I was mocking him or making fun of him, but then he smiled. It was a wicked smile, one that I've seen on his face many times later, but this one was of a more innocent sort. It was a conspiratory look, reserved for the times when he took on the role of a teacher and shared with me the deepest secrets of someone's fears as if we were exchanging some juicy gossip. At this time, it was a signal for me that I scored a point with him.

"Oh, of course it does sometimes, I'm sure you know how it goes. You try to be serious with someone and they act like immature children, even when there's no need." he mused. "But most of the time, it serves its purpose. Fear is what keeps them predictable and therefore within my reach."

He stopped talking then, but it took me a while to register that, as I was too intrigued by the sound of his voice. He spoke in a calm, deep voice, that I soon found out was very characteristic of him, he never seemed to anger easily. He didn't need to, after all. His anger was not needed to make him intimidating.

I laughed softly and nodded. "You have a point there." I did not mean to say that out loud really, it just came out, but he didn't comment on that. I cleared my throat and decided to introduce myself to him."Very well, doctor Crane, it is certainly very nice to meet you officially. You probably already know this, but I am doctor Katherine Jones and I will be your assigned psychiatrist for the time being."

"For the time being?" he replied immediately, amused. "Do you expect our time together to be short? Are you that unsure of your abilities, so afraid of working with me?" He watched with careful calculation waiting for my answer. I realised how important it was to consider your words carefully when you spoke with him, for he was a master at obtaining information even from the things you didn't tell him. The key was not getting yourself too unnerved.

"A figure of speech, doctor Crane." I said, not annoyed, not angry, just letting him know I got the meaning behind his words. "Though how long we are gonna be at this together mostly depends on your behavior."

He was staring at me for some reason, and I can see there was something gnawing at him, the wheels in his head turning. "What is it, doctor Crane?" I asked kindly, and smiled.

"This." he said, and a minute later, he seemed to regain his composure. "Forgive me, it's just… it's been a while since a fellow doctor addressed me with my own title. Not that I entirely blame them, in the eyes of the society I have lost my licence a long time ago. I have no desire to be a part of that society anymore, but it is still nice to hear it from you."

He looked very thoughtful when he said that, nostalgic almost, and I couldn't help but feel slightly bad for him. It did occur to me however that I made another step in the right direction. I had no idea there was a general consensus around here not to call him by the title he has certainly earned, but he was my patient now, and if he liked it, I was gonna call him that no matter what anyone else thought.

"So…" I started, eager to move the session forward, tearing him out of his musings. But before I had the time to speak further, he suddenly asked his own question. "So, doctor, what's so special about you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused, overlooking the fact for now, that he quite rudely interrupted me. "Ah, you see doctor, only a few hours before I was taken here, I overheard Ivy's guards as they talked about your session together, how incredibly nice you were to her, how unusually... accepting you were to her view of the world. She seemed to be taking a liking to you, and it seems like you're actually trying to help, but I'm not sure that our warden will view your actions in the same way once he hears of this. I'm surprised you haven't been "invited" to see him yet." His voice wasn't mocking when he said this, but I could see in his eyes the glee he felt, perhaps not directly towards me, but definitely at the concept of whatever he was imagining. "Aren't you a little bit worried what will happen if the warden isn't happy with your performance? A little bit scared? Is that why you're trying so hard?"

He was good at what he was doing, I had to give him that, but he was digging in the wrong direction and I was starting to feel rather annoyed this time. I knew beforehand that this was not going to be a simple patient-doctor conversation, but I was making a serious effort here.

"Ok, doctor, I get it. You are going to bring up the subject of my fears in our sessions that are supposed to be about you, I am willing to tolerate it, maybe even humour it from time to time. For now, I can assure you, I most certainly don't suffer from Atychiphobia, so we can move on from that subject."

I tried to speak calmly, but I guess some of that annoyance must have made its way into my voice, for he went a bit silent. If I had caught him of guard though, he did not let me see it, as he just smiled and retorted. "Well, I'm glad you know the exact name of the condition you claim not to have." he said, and I smiled brightly at him. So that was it. Truth is, I was always interested in fear, mind you, not quite as fanatically as the man before me, but it was, always, a rather fascinating subject. And if I could use my limited knowledge of it to impress him, it would only be a bonus.

So I leaned forward a little bit and with a smile I told him: "Perhaps we just have similar hobbies." Then I leaned back in my chair and continued before he can speak himself. "So now that we've got over that, let's get back on the topic at hand. You mentioned before that you no longer desire to be a part of normal human society. If talking about it isn't too troubling for you, would you be so kind as to tell me why?" I asked.

And he told me. Not much, I knew he was holding a lot of it back, but was going to respect if he didn't want to talk about no matter reasons he had. There wasn't much in the file about his past, which itself told me he wasn't a very open person. He was good in getting information out of other people but he never divulged much about himself. Now that I actually asked he did not tell me much more than what was already there from some other brave doctor who managed to get this far. He said that he was bullied as a child, severely, and that in his later years it was that bottled up fear that has manifested in his desire to scare others. I knew there was more, but this was our first session and I didn't want to push him. Gradually, from answering the question that I gave him he started talking about fear and the enormous power it had over human mind, and subsequently, the body. At this point, I was just content to let him talk and listen, because, whether he realised it or not, his former occupation as a professor was clearly visible in the way he talked about his field of experience. If this is how he talked about things in the university, he must have been very efficient, if not very popular as a teacher.

Eventually though, it was time to end the session, and, not wanting to interrupt him too rudely, I gently placed a hand on his. He flinched away from my touch slightly, but otherwise did not seem angry. "I'm sorry, doctor, and I'm really glad that you're talking to me about this, but we need to save some for the next time. It's time for you to go now." I spoke gently, looking at the guards nervously tapping at the glass panel on the door to my office, and he glanced up, a little surprised at how much time has passed. Then he looked at me and gave me this strange look that was just impossible to read, but it was not one that scared me for some reason. Instead, I dared to step a little closer to him and said: "If we have indeed more time to spend together," I spoke slowly, carefully. "You may find that I am very different that the other psychiatrists you had. For what you did, I will not judge you, or demean you, I just wish to know more about you and I hope that we can make this work. For now please, have a nice a nice day, and I will see you later this week again, alright? Goodbye, doctor Crane."

And then he left. I sat down in my chair, took a deep breath and thought about everything that transpired in the last two hours almost. Suddenly it seemed so unbelievable to me that I really had just talked to the infamous Scarecrow and we actually seemed to get along, certainly for a first meeting. I most certainly had a lot to think about now, but I was happy.

I remembered I wanted to call Harley after my last session, so I took out my phone a dialed her number. She still wasn't done for today, and so I had a few more hours before we could leave for dinner, and since there wasn't much paperwork for me to do today, I went back to the Penitentiary to continue my exploration of the place. I went to greet Ivy, and then I continued further through the building until I arrived at the end of a hall that was mostly empty, save for a few cells at its end. And there, in one of them I found the most strange and… in some ways funny man. He was a rather small and stocky fellow with dirty blond hair, blue eyes and a slight overbite, wearing a rather peculiar outfit out of which the strangest was the large top hat he wore on his head. It took me a while to figure out who this man was, but when I did, I had to smile. This was Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter.

Now I knew about this one's particular MO, and his mind controlling methods have always kinda freaked me out (thank God Crane never learned about that one), but looking at him now, as he sat on his little cot in his Arkham cell, he looked just so innocent and adorable that I just to stop by and greet him, and I gently stepped closer.

"Hello." I said quietly, and I had to smile again as he turned and looked at me with those big eyes of his. Even if I knew what he's done in the past, I'd never imagine looking so unbelievably… harmless.

"Oh hello, pretty girl. Are you Alice? You look just like my Alice. The pretty blond hair, the eyes. And you have such a pretty smile too. My new doctor looks like Alice too, but Alice never wears glasses, no, no no, she never hides those pretty eyes. But… you… surely you must be my Alice, aren't you?" he blurted out and looked up at me with so much hope that it nearly broke my heart to disappoint him, but I certainly did not want to end up as a quest at one of his tea parties. "No, I'm sorry." I said as kindly as I could. "I am doctor Jones, Katherine Jones. It is a very nice… no, a very frabjous day now that I had the chance to meet you, Hatter." At my words, his eyes lit up like the lights on the Christmas tree and I had to smile again at just how cute this guy could actually be. I sat by his cell for a while, keeping him company. He seems very lonely being here by himself, along with a few lost, nearly catatonic cases in the opposite cells. Alone and forgotten. I felt really bad for him then, but maybe, if Harley was his doctor now, things were going to change even for this poor misguided individual. I made a note to ask her about him later.

I excused myself them, promising to visit him again, and he made me smile again when I made a small, gentlemanly bow as a parting gesture. Damn, why were these guys considered criminals again? was a thought that rang through my mind as I went to find Harley, and we left the island together for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 4.**

It was a rather nice, warm autumn evening in Gotham and me and Harley were spending it sitting in a nice little diner just a few blocks from Dixon Docks and quite close to the place where I lived. Sitting at a table next to a window, we had a nice view of the Gotham River, but it wasn't like I had the time to actually notice, because I was busy talking to Harley. Well, actually, for the most part, I was listening to Harley talking to me. From the time we were seated, she simply couldn't stop talking, I had to stop her gently when the waiter came to ask for our orders and she was staring at the man like she wanted to kill him for interrupting us. While I was usually quite tolerant and used to her outbursts of chattery, this particular one was making me slightly uneasy, cause for the last fifteen minutes our one-sided conversation has been solely focused on one single topic - the Joker.

"Oh, Katherine, I thought a lot about him, but I never imagined he would be like this." she smiled as she, for like the hundredth time that day related to me just how much she was impressed with the man known as the Clown Prince of Crime. Fortunately, spending enough time with her has provided me with enough patience to deal with her "slightly" obsessive behaviour, which in the future turned out to be rather fortunate. So, presently, I had no problem just sitting there patiently, drinking my coffee and waiting for her to talk herself out.

"Well," I said then, laughing. "I can see you definitely like the clown then. If he likes you back, maybe you can make some good progress together." she looked at me questioningly and I elaborated. "His treatment, Harley." I said, and she lowered her head at my raised eyebrows. "From what I've gathered, there is next to nothing known about the clown, and nothing that he says can be taken seriously. But who knows, maybe he will open up to you, and you'll be able to find something that will show us a way to make him better. We can hardly hope for anything better for him I'm afraid, but it could be a start."

I looked at her carefully then and, to my confusion, found her slightly blushing. I decided not to ask about it and instead I added: "But I do agree he is quite fascinating. I really have to meet him properly one of these days, after all, I've already met a lot of people around the asylum."

"Yeah." she said, sounding rather thoughtful, but then she glanced at me and her eyes lit up again. "How was your day anyway? Here I am rambling about myself and you haven't told me a single thing. What about the Scarecrow? How was your meeting with him? You know, I couldn't help but notice how you were staring at him at the Penitentiary."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, my thoughts turning back to my session earlier. "Yes, I had the honour to talk to him. He has a really fascinating personality. It's difficult to keep your cool in his presence, even without the costume. But it was a really interesting experience and I…" I paused, deep in thought. "I just hope that he will talk to me. I really want to know more about him."

"Ah, so you do like him." she remarked, smirking slightly. "I could see that the first time you looked at him."

"Oh please." I said defensively as I saw the look on her face. "I never said I liked him in that way Harley, that would be totally…"

"Of course," she laughed. "I'm just messing with you." Then, her face turned mildly serious. "But you do know it's not safe telling him too much about yourself. He could use it against you." she said, her bubbly voice tinged with concern.

"I know." I answered. "And I will be careful, but I hope that we can get along with one another so that I can find out more about him. We will see in time. Don't worry though, I am not going to tell him anything I don't necessary have to. Anyway," I said, changing the subject. "I also met the Mad Hatter today. Cute, kinda at the creepy side, but cute. What is it like talking to him?"

"Oh," she smiled. "he's a sweet little fellow, he is, but talking to him, well, I'm gonna have to read that book again if I am to understand half of the things he's saying." we laughed together at this, during which the waiter brought our food and we dug in it with quite a bit of enthusiasm. "But," she said after taking a few bites of her meal. "It's been rather nice. He can be really sweet at times, and listening to him is like being in the middle of a fairy-tale. I've basically just let him ramble on yesterday to get a sense of him. His file is mostly filled with not so subtle notes on how much of a freak people consider him to be."

I gasped at that. "Surely not." I said, but she nodded vigorously and took out a bunch of papers with Tetch's name and picture printed on the front page. "Just look at this." she pointed at one of the papers. I skimmed over the page with my eyes and basically read a lot of things along the lines of: _More ramblings about Wonderland today. At this point, I doubt anyone can make him come back from whatever rabbit hole he has fallen into. _or, from somebody who tried to be a bit more professional about it: _Patient exhibiting highly confused and distant behavior, strong detachment from reality. _All in all, it seemed like Tetch's doctor were slowly giving up on him, and I sighed. "Well, maybe he just needs someone with a bit more patience, someone who actually takes the effort to understand him. I'm glad you have him then. Poor guy seemed very lonely in there. You wouldn't mind if I paid him a visit sometimes?"

"No, not at all." she said with a grateful smile. "You are such a nice person for doing this and he can certainly use the company. You can even bring him some tea if you like. I'm sure he'd like that." I nodded, and then I looked down at her plate as she placed the file next to it. "Be careful not to get any ketchup on that, won't you?" I said. "I somehow don't think that would make a good first impression." I said jokingly and we laughed and for that evening we stopped talking about work until it was time to go home.

The next day I didn't have to come to the asylum too early, as I only had an interview with one Waylon Jones, a.k.a. the Killer Croc. To say that I was nervous to talk to him would be an understatement as I have seen some of his pictures and he was definitely scary, but at the same time, I knew meeting him would be nothing short of amazing. The sewer-dwelling crocodile man was also one of the local legends and from the few low-quality photos I've seen in the news I've liked him even before I have come to work at the asylum.

Anyway, I got to work around midday, but it wasn't like I spend my free time lazing about my apartment. I used that time to do a little shopping, and I came to the asylum that day bearing a few gifts. As a psychiatrist working in this facility, I was determined to treat my patients, and others as well, as kindly as possible, and if making them happy meant going into greater lengths, surely it will be worth the resulting boost in our relationship. There was a moment when I though to myself whether I too am starting to go a bit crazy, but if I ever needed a proof that my theory was correct, it was the looks on their faces as I presented them with their presents.

My interview was at 4. p.m., so I had plenty of time to do this and still make some preparations in my office later. Right now, this was the first place where I went as I wanted to make some tea into a thermos flask I brought with me from home. Next I walked over into the Penitentiary and headed along the corridors to get to my destinations. I arrived to Crane's cell only to find it empty. I didn't know where he was, but at this point I didn't thought about questioning it, so I simply took it as an opportunity. From my bag I took out a book I purchased this morning, it was a book about fear that I read some time ago and thought he might like it. I imagined a man with such a brilliant mind must have the same love for books as I had, and that he must have been quite bored sometimes, so, slipping into the cell using my keycard, I placed it gently upon his cot, hoping it will raise his mood a bit when he comes back.

My next stop was at Ivy's cell. There was only one guard today, a different one than the one I saw here the last time, but fortunately, he didn't question my intention as I entered the cell. Ivy seemed happy to see me, but she was a bit confused as we weren't really supposed to meet so soon. "Hello, Katherine, do we have another session today?" she asked and I shook my head, smiling. "No, no, Ivy, I just stopped by for a visit."

She looked at me, surprised, raising her delicate eyebrows. "You stopped by... like a friend?"

"Of course." I replied. "You are my friends, at least that's what I hope we will be eventually. That's why I'm here. I actually have something for you." I said, and I gently lifted the plastic I've been carrying around with me since noon. Out of it I took a flower pot with a rather strange plant embedded within the dark soil inside it. It was green, with long green stems with a simple structure at the end of each. Inside, the structure was bright red and it had tiny "teeth" along its edges which made it look like a tiny, beartrap shaped mouth.

"Dionaea muscipula," said Ivy, as she gently touched it, and the plant shook slightly as it came to life under her touch. "The Venus flytrap." she smiled lightly.

"Yeah." I said kindly. "I though you might like her. I am very fond of carnivorous plants, especially this one. They are plants that act like animal carnivores, I find that incredibly fascinating."

Ivy nodded and looked at me as she continued petting the plant, her eyes filled with appreciation. Then her brows furrowed slightly and she said: "Thank you, Katherine, for such a nice gift, but I cannot keep her here with me. Take her to the gardens, please, there is a spot there in the northern greenhouse that has an excellent soil where this baby would be much happier. Would you do that for me?" she pleaded.

"Of course, Ivy." I said. "I'll get to it right away, just gotta stop by somewhere else first. Have a nice day for now, I will see you again in a few days." And then, with a smile, I left her to her own devices and continued with my day. The last cell I wanted to visit here was the one of Jervis Tetch. I found him sitting on the ground, his back against the metal cot, lost somewhere in his world. I tapped his glass lightly and smiled as he raised his head to look at me, before I opened the door to his cell and carefully slipped inside. I wasn't afraid. At that time, Jervis Tetch was far less volatile than what he ended up later, but that is a thought we don't have to dwell upon now. Back then I was just happy to see him, though it was nothing against the sheer happiness I saw in his eyes when he saw the thermos and the cup I brought with me. His eyes sparkled like a little girl's who just received a pony for her birthday. Then we had... something that I would be reluctant to call a tea party, but it was nice, and it was apparent he haven't tea in a quite a long time. As I gave him a cup filled with the still steaming liquid, he took it in both hand enthusiastically and took a few gulps, before he calmed down a bit and started drinking normally, closing his eyes in absolute bliss.

"Thank you, thank you so much miss... how did you say it yesterday, forgive my manners, oh... miss Katherine, this is so very kind of you. I haven't had tea in a... very long time." he sighed and smiled at me, showing his overbite. "You're not like the other doctors, those are very, very nasty. Alice would be very angry with them."

I nodded in agreement. "I'm sure she would, Jervis." I said, calling him by his real name this time. I am angry with them too. Which is why I brought you a little gift. I'm sure you would like it." I reached into my bag and pulled out a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It was brand new and had beautiful drawing on its cover. I knew he loved the moment he saw it, and I smiled as I watched him take it out of my hands almost reverently, before he pressed it tightly to his chest like some precious treasure. Which, for him, it really was. He looked overjoyed as he looked at me with big, teary eyes. "This... I... this is. I don't know how to thank you, kind young lady."

"You don't have." I reassured him, smiling brightly. "I knew you must have missed the book greatly. I have to go now, but I will come back soon and bring you some more tea. Good bye for now." I moved to walk away, but as I reached a turn of the corridor I turned back, only to smile as I saw him sitting on his bed with his nose already buried in the book.

I took to the Botanical Garden first. In there, I found the place that Ivy recommended, and with the tools I found in the greenhouse, I managed to successfully move the plant to its new place without damaging it. Then I walked back into my office. I had a few hours to reread Croc's file and think of a few strategies that might help me during the upcoming interview. When it was finally four p.m. though, I found myself waiting for several minutes without anyone showing up for the session. So, I went into the Intensive Treatment building where I knew Croc's cell was located, and I noticed the building looked rather empty. After a bit of a wait though, I heard footsteps coming towards me as a guard entered the building frantically.

"Oh there you are, doctor Jones." he said when he noticed me. "We were looking for you."

"What's going on?" I asked him. "I was supposed to have a session with Waylon Jones now."

"Yes." the guards spoke again, looking slightly ashamed. "There is a bit of a problem with that. Jones... he said he didn't feel like going to a session today, and when we tried to force him he went on a rampage. We had to tranquilize him, he's sleeping it off in one of the corridors. Should take an hour or two for him to wake up, and then we're gonna take him back to his cell. The warden says you don't have to do the session now."

"No, no." I said, surprising even myself. "That's fine, officer. Such things happen sometimes. I will come with you and wait, maybe he'll be more willing to talk when he wakes up. Take me to him, please." The guard just shrugged, relieved that I wasn't mad about it, and then he led me through the corridors to the place where I appearantly was to conducts my next interview. Before I had a feeling it was not gonna be easy, but as I saw the mass of scales lying on the floor, I wondered what was the chance of me even making it out of there alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 5.**

Of all the patients in Arkham Asylum that seriously managed to scare people on a daily basis, none of them were probably more frightening than Killer Croc, with his huge, scaly, hulking figure, and more importantly, his mouth full of giant, razor-sharp teeth. That day, I was able to observe it in person, as I found myself standing in a long, wide hall, close to the elevators in the Intensive Treatment building, staring at the massive figure of Waylon Jones occupying most of the floor.

At first glance it was a truly terrifying sight to say the least, for everything about him screamed _predator _quite clearly, and nothing I could have seen on those pictures could possibly prepare me for seeing this. He was surrounded by several more guards, and when they saw me approaching, one of them, a stern but kindly looking black man stepped forward to greet me. "I am so sorry for this inconvenience, doctor. I hate to cause you this trouble, but it was necessary for the safety of all this building to knock him out. Are you sure you wanna do this? You don't want to deal with Croc when he's being grumpy like this."

"Yes, of course, officer." I smiled at the man as I glanced up from my sleeping patient. "Not to sound negative, but, I'm sure it won't be a long session anyway. Just be ready if he tries anything." As I said this, my eyes blinked downwards for a second and that's when I noticed his left hand, or rather, lack thereof, as there was a metal hook attached to his wrist where his hand should have been. That's when I realised that I was talking to Aaron Cash, one of the senior and probably the most respected guard here in Arkham. He was popular for his compassionate attitude, his excellent job efficiency and also for his humour. The only one of Arkham's patients that he seriously detested, and the one who was the cause of Cash's missing hand in the first place, was the one currently laying at my feet.

"Oh, you must be mr. Cash." I smiled and he readily reached over to shake my hand. "They told me you're the best around here." I said, and he beamed back at me, pleased by my praise. "Yeah, that's me. Don't worry, doctor, we'll be ready. That thing's not gonna touch a hair on your pretty head."

Hearing his words made me frown, and I turned to look back at Croc so the guards wouldn't see my expression. That thing? Seriously? All right, so Cash maybe had a good reason to hate Croc, but didn't mean the man had to call him by such derogatory terms. Croc was still a human being, and being treated as an animal beyond what was absolutely necessary for the safety of the staff was certainly not going to help anything here. Sighing inwardly, as I knew I was probably not going to find an ounce of sympathy among those who had to deal with Croc regularly, I decided not to argue, and, for the time being, I simply observed what it was that I was about to deal with in a short while.

I knew that it was probably gonna change once he woke up, but as I spend time observing him closely, he stopped looking so immensely terrifying, and instead, I found myself looking at him with slowly growing interest. Killer Croc was a truly impressive creature. As I myself was rather small in stature, I was aware that talking to him will include some great height difference, which, to my great chagrin, certainly wasn't going to make my first impression any better. He was heavily muscled, almost impossibly so, which heralded some really impressive strength, and there were claws where his nails should have been. All in all, he was still very humanoid in his appearance, though it seemed like his more animal characteristic were slowly becoming more discernible.

I was slowly circling him for a while, watching his every move and listening to his heavy breathing as he slumbered, and so I missed the dumbfounded looks the guards were throwing my way. Then I simply plopped down on the ground in front of him, in as safe of a distance as I could put between us, and waited.

He woke up rather slowly. At first there was a growl, a deep, guttural growl coming out of his mouth as the effects of the drug finally began to recede, and then he gradually became more animated as he slowly came back to his senses. His nostrils twitched as he carefully took in the world around him, and then, finally, he opened his eyes and lazily rolled into a sitting position. He looked at me with surprise when he spotted me sitting there on the ground, but then, quickly, that moment of surprise turned into anger. He tried to rise to his feet quickly, but the drug was still affecting him, and so he just reached towards me with his hand, and I jumped up in terror, when one of the guards quickly pushed the button to activate Killer Croc's collar, and the corridor that was so silent a while ago was suddenly filled with pained roars and the slight smell of sizzled flesh. I did not desire to see that, and I quickly raised my hand, signalling them to stop.

I could see that it pained him greatly, even if he was too proud to admit it, but I could see how much the torturous device around his neck humiliated him. But I also knew that my pity would only make him angry, and so, thinking I should probably pitch in, I tried to start our conversation with a light-hearted comment of: "Was that really necessary, mr. Jones? You might as well learn my name at least before you try to eat me." I said, smiling kindly, trying hard to stay calm as I approached him, step by careful step. Suddenly, he turned towards me and started sniffing, before turning fully to face me, and, seeing it as a sign of possible aggression, another guard reached to push the button again when I turned to him sharply and mouthed. "No." Wide-eyed, the guard looked at me like I was crazy, but I ignored him as I turned my attention back at Killer Croc.

The crocodile man now stood, shoulders hunched as he looked at me, when he finally spoke. His voice came out slightly distorted, as if it was recorded twice then played at the same time but not utterly aligned. It was rather unnerving, but it suited his appearance perfectly. "I don't need to know who you are, bitch." he barked, and I flinched a little at his tone. "From my point of view, you all look as nothing more then a bunch of tasty drumsticks." his nostrils flared again as he spoke, and I was starting to feel rather uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "But you do smell like a doctor." he huffed, glaring at me with those bright, yellow eyes. "Don't get too comfortable around here, doc. You ain't gonna be around much longer if they honestly chose you to be my next shrink. There's not much flesh on you for sure, but your bones would make a nice toothpick afterwards."

I was, frankly, at a loss for words, and I knew he could see that, but the presence of the guards gave me a bit of courage, so I stepped closer to him, speaking quietly. "Yes, mr. Jones, I am your new doctor." Realising my voice sounded a little strained, I cleared my throat and tried again. "My name is Katherine Jones." I said, trying to think of what to say next, and then I realised I just presented myself a perfect opportunity, so I jumped on it. "Now you know who I am, that's a good start." I voiced, trying to sound as serious as I could. "Now, if you are not too bothered by this, I'd be quite grateful if you could postpone my becoming your dinner until after we had a chance to talk properly." I said, putting on a smile that I had no idea where it came from. "You can always eat me later, but right now I'm not going anywhere, and I'd really like to have a chat."

By some miracle I managed to keep a neutral look on my face as I stared into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, not daring to look away, and at the end, it payed off as he suddenly started laughing, not in a menacing kind of way that would have spelled my impending doom, but rather a loud, amused cackle that caused my skin to crawl, but I saw his whole posture relax slightly which I took as a good sign.

"Damn, doc, you're something else, are you?" he said, his voice rising an octave as his anger left him for the time being. "You reek of fear, but you do have some guts in that puny body of yours. Maybe I should have played nice after all."

At that moment, those words felt like the greatest praise I could have possibly received, and I smiled in a sudden wave of joy as I gave a small apologetic nod. "I am very sorry for what happened here, mr. Jones. No one has told me you would prefer to stay in your… cell for this." I said, pausing as, from the file, I remembered what exactly did his "cell" look like. The dark, damp and certainly very dangerous sewers of Arkham Asylum. It was certainly not a place where I would normally stray, but, looking at him now, when he was not actually threatening me with agonising death in his jaws, my sense of compassion returned to me fully and I knew that I wanted to make him as comfortable as possible, not only to keep myself of his menu, but also, because in that moment of connection, I felt a certain fondness for this man-creature beginning to grow within me. Perhaps it was simply my love for reptiles, but at the moment, I didn't care.

"Perhaps next time, I can come to you." I said, smiling. This caused the guards to whisper among themselves anxiously. Cash stepped in and lightly touched my back, making me turn to look at him, before speaking hastily: "You can't be serious. This thing will kill you down there."

I heard Croc's growling angrily by my side, and this time, even I couldn't keep the irritation from my voice as I heard the man once again speaking of my patient as if he was less than the mud on his shoes. So, my voice cold, I looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Mr. Cash, I appreciate your concern, but this is my patient now and unless there is absolutely no other way my first and foremost priority is to do what is best for him. And if he feels safer in the sewers, than that's where I shall go, after all I can hardly blame him now that I've seen the looks you all have been giving him. But if you insist, you are more than welcome to accompany me."

I turned away from Cash, not bothering to hear what else he had to say, and I looked at Croc who was staring at me with what looked like astonishment on his face, obviously he wasn't used to other, "normal" people standing up for him like that. So I smiled, and once again surprised everyone by reaching tentatively with my hand. "So, is it a deal?" I asked, giving him a notion that he actually had a choice in the matter. He craned his neck to look down at the soft bits of flesh that was my hand, and then he reached, very carefully, and touched my hand with his own, giant one, not daring to actually take my own in an actual handshake. "Deal." he croaked, and on that simple word I actually felt a tinge of excitement. I felt like his current placidness was a genuine one, and I thought we might actually get somewhere in time if I can stay on his good side.

"Fine, then." I smiled at him earnestly. "Next time we have a session, I will see you in your sewers. Now, I know this is not the best of places, but, would you sit with me here?" He was looking at me for a while, but then he walked over and carefully lowered himself on the ground. Watching the giant scaly man sitting down was kinda amusing, and in my eyes, it suddenly made him look a bit more human. I sat down next to him, but then I realised how close we were and I shoved myself back a bit, finding it a bit too close for my comfort for now. Of course he picked up on it immediately.

"You are afraid of me." he said, grinning. "You are wise to be, doc. I could eat you anytime I want. This toy collar around my neck, it only tickles. I could reach over and tear you apart before I even feel its sting."

I decided to simply level with him, as he would know if I was lying, and that would certainly not help me build any confidence with him. "Well, of course I am, just as I would be scared if I saw a real crocodile from up this close. It's the wise thing to do. But, unlike a crocodile, I can actually talk to you and see you for the person who is hidden under all those scales."

At that he scoffed. "You know nothing about me." He sounded forlorn, rather then angry as he turned his head away from me, and I realised that the deepest problem he had was simply the fact that he himself consider himself too much of a monster to actually be human, which is why I would have to be extremely careful in my choice of words. I wasn't stupid, I knew that at this point it would probably be impossible for him to become a member of human society that looked down at anything even remotely different, and he was different all right, but I still wanted to assure him that I didn't see anything wrong with the way he looked, and surely I wouldn't be the only one if only he didn't eat everyone he came across. Still, I knew that bringing up the issue now would only send him into deeper denial, and I would be in for some serious trouble if he thought I was only leading him on, and so I decided, after carefull thinking, to pick a topic that he would probably appreciate more.

"So, mr. Jones." I started lightly, remembering an interesting feature I saw during my previous examination of him. "Would you mind telling me about all these scars?"

And so there it was. Note to self, if you're faced with a brute with a craving for human flesh, the easiest way to get to know him better without getting eaten yourself is to make him talk about his accomplishments. That way I was able to sit there and listen as he recalled his fights with the Batman, his various escapades in the Gotham underworld and his scuffles with other Rogues, at least those who actually had the firepower to physically harm him. Some of these stories made him rather sullen, especially when it concerned a certain black clad vigilante, but most of them were stories from battles that in the end resulted in his victory, and so the thin scars of his skin were remainders of all the enemies he eventually devoured. I was happy to say that at the end of the session I actually left Killer Croc in a rather good mood, and I had plenty to think about in order to prepare for our next session.

So, even though it was almost 7 p.m. by the time we finished, I was actually feeling very cheerful as I made my way to the exit so I could collect my things in the office. As I arrived there, I realised that I have forgotten about one last gift I brought with me today, and since I really wanted to see the man who it was for, I decided to present it to him immediately. Hurrying back to the Intensive Treatment building, I walked straight to the Riddler's cell, and I stopped dead in my track as I saw it empty. This caused me to frown, it was too late for him to have a session or some other appointment and it made me a bit worried. Did he actually manage to escape? I stood there for a few minutes, until I suddenly heard quiet footsteps behind me, and, whirling around, I saw the Riddler in all his glory, looking at me rather surprised as he clearly did not expect anyone to be here at this time.

"Ehm… doctor? What are you doing here so late?" he spoke, his usually arrogant voice sounding a bit uncertain, as he didn't know what to expect from me. I on the other hand, had no idea what to expect from him, since I virtually just caught him red handed being out of his cell doing God-knows-what, but the smile on his face was innocent enough, and since he didn't seem to carry any weapon on him currently, I decided that talking to him civilly would be the course of action. So, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"I could ask you the same question, Edward. I could even ask you how the hell did you get out of your cell if I wanted to. What I want to know," I said, studying his face carefully. "is if there is a slight chance you might return inside." I watched as the Riddler's smile widened, and out of his pocket he took a keycard, one that he obviously swiped from someone during a transfer, stepped inside his cell gracefully and closing the door behind him as if he never left in the first place. "Of course, doctor, er… Katherine." he grinned as he stared at my shocked face. "I wasn't planning to escape, I was merely taking the time to take care of some… urgent business of mine." I was hoping he would elaborate, but he didn't, and I didn't feel like pressing the issue. Instead, now that the Riddler was back in his cell, I relaxed enough to jokingly ask him: "Well, anyone else creeping around I should know about?"

"Not at the moment, I think." he answered, and the seriousness in his voice made me stop with worry as I looked around. "Oh don't worry." he spoke, his usual arrogance returning back to him. "I'm afraid only a selected few of us have the brain capacity to free ourselves of our confinements. And those of us who do are the ones who actually want to keep a low profile in order to be able to roam around in peace. Just pretend you didn't see anything and you'll be fine." I looked at him, my eyes widening a little bit at the insinuation that I should turn a blind eye to what might possibly be some highly criminal activity.

"Speaking of," the Riddler continued. "I'd be really glad if you could keep this little meeting of ours to yourself. While getting this card from the simpletons who like to think they guard this place was easy, I'd rather avoid any possible risk of getting manhandled by them on the way to solitary." he looked at me, his eyes actually pleading, and even though I tried to search for any hidden threat in them, I was surprised when I couldn't find any. Was he really that sure that I wouldn't rat him out? As I thought about it though, I realised I did not want to get this guy in trouble, not yet. If he was doing something devious out there, we're surely gonna find later, and even if I told anyone about his escape, it was highly unlikely they would get anything out of him anyway. And then, looking at him all innocent sitting in his cell, I couldn't find it in me to wish any ill to him, and so I sighed and shook my head. "Fine, but you better not be working on any devilry like the ones I hear you so love to pull."

He laughed and raised his hands as if in surrender. "Don't worry, Katherine. I am merely preparing a harmless, totally innocent game of wits for our dear Dark Knight when he comes to the asylum next time." he looked at me strangely all of a sudden, as if he wanted to say something, but then he decided against it. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be on your way home by now."

With things returning back to relatively normal, as normal as things can be in Arkham, I calmed down and smiled. "Yeah, well, I had a session with Killer Croc, there were some... complications, so it had to be postponed. I could have just go home and have the session rescheduled for tomorrow, but I was preparing for it all day, I wanted to just get the introduction over with as soon as possible. Not that I don't like Killer Croc…" I added quickly. "On the contrary, but he made me quite nervous. As for the reason why I am in this building, I actually have something for you."

Whatever snide remark he wanted to say about Killer Croc died in his throat as soon he heard my next statement and he asked incredulously: "You... you brought me a gift?"

"Yeah." I said, smiling, as I reached into my bag and pull our a bunch of colorful, thick puzzle books, those that might take months to solve for other people, but he will surely be done with them in a week. His eyes lightened at the sight of them though, and I gave them to him with a cheerful smile. "Of course, Edward, you are, after all, my friend, and I don't want you precious brain to get bored in this place, especially not with you having such an idiot for a doctor." I said, and he grinned in amusement as he heard the contempt in my voice.

"Ah, I see you have already met our dear dumb doctor Thomas. I hope he did not have a bad effect on your rare streak of genius you displayed before. That kind of thing is fortunately not contagious, but it can make your brain deteriorate if you spend too much time in their presence without ignoring them... or causing them to explode." he laughed cruelly, showing me a glimpse of his own dark side, but then he looked at me and his smiled turned apologetic. "Oh, but you don't have to trouble your pretty little head with such things, not for now anyway. I sincerely thank you for providing me with these means of entertainment, even though they are only temporary."

I nodded, smiling at him kindly, when suddenly, I had to cover my mouth as I yawned, feeling tired after my long day, and so I bid Edward good night before leaving for tonight. I got home around nine that day, and I was quickly to fall asleep, knowing that tomorrow I will need my strength. It was time for another session with the Scarecrow, and, as I contemplated it in my mind before I as I went to bed, I found that I was actually looking forward to see him immensely, his silky, deep voice still echoing in my head whenever I though of him. I hoped that, as I get to know him better, I'll be able to uncover something more about him, and that he would actually trust me to share his life with me. I had to laugh, thinking myself to be perhaps a bit crazy myself, but it didn't change the fact that he greatly fascinated me, and so it was with the Scarecrow in my mind that I fell into the arms of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 6.**

By the end of my first week in Arkham, I had, personally, a feeling that I might just be good at this job. Looking at it back now, I realise I actually never was a good psychiatrist, and I perhaps should have known before I got myself tangled up in all this, but that is something that I cannot change now so I won't go brooding over it here.

I was making some real progress with the patients I had, not in the sense of improving their mental health as of yet, but with my unique talent to listen and my friendly, non-judgemental attitude with which I was content to let them be who they are while talking to me, well, they actually talked to me. At this point I wasn't sure if we could call our meetings sessions, it was more like friendly talks between two friends, but, from the beginning, it was always my opinion that you cannot truly help someone unless you first take your time to truly know them and understand them, and that simply couldn't be achieved with the detached, overly professional attitude my colleagues choose to adopt, well, most of them. There were few people in this facility that I liked, but it was really a small number among the rest being a bunch of people that really had no place here I thought.

Thursday for me was another rather uneventful day on my schedule. During the day I had several minor inmates that I was meeting less frequently, because they were more stable than the other, more famous patients and were considered less dangerous. If I was, at the beginning, a bit unnerved by the fact that they actually let us close to the much more dangerous Rogue Gallery, later I realised that they really had no other choice. There weren't many doctors here to begin with, those who stayed were here for many years and were not interested in looking for another job anymore. It was rare when some new brave person decided to try their luck in the infamous asylum, and so it was necessary to challenge the new ones, even if the more decent people in Arkham would object to that, with some of their famed nutcases to take the load off their senior doctors.

But I did have another interesting encounter that perhaps, in later years, defined the nature of my actions. For in that Thursday afternoon I was supposed to have a first session with a man who I really didn't think should have been here. After all, he had more important things to do than being stuck in an insane asylum. It would be, perhaps, easy for you to guess his identity, if I told you that I had to bundle up quite a lot before I was allowed to see him. For Mr. Freeze's cell in Arkham was, well, cold, frozen in fact. I was actually quite surprised when I was led to the very back of the Penitentiary and saw the giant isolation chamber mounted next to a series of elevated platforms fitted with, currently inactive, electrified floor. This area was known as the Extreme Incarceration, and it was designed for some of the most dangerous individuals that couldn't be contained in the normal cells. I felt bad for mr. Freeze being here, for it was a place with heavy security and only a limited access so coming here to see him would be difficult outside of session hours.

As the heavy doors to his cell opened, the air around us instantly became colder and the guards accompanying me were eager to close them again, throwing pitiful glanced at the one who would be staying inside with me. I shivered in the unpleasant cold, knowing that it was probably going to get worse, but then, cautiously, I stepped inside and looked around.

Now, seeing Freeze for the first time, it was easy to consider him to be as cold as he actually looked, but he was always a man of many contradictions. For starters, Victor was never actually a criminal, well, ok he was, but in his case he did have a very good reason to be. During my time in Arkham, as I've learned, Freeze's dear wife, Nora, was temporarily housed and taken care of in one of Gotham's biggest hospitals, a project that was generously funded by none other than Bruce Wayne himself, who, which was surprising to some people, wanted to personally oversee that the woman's body is kept safe.

As I stood in the doorway then and our eyes met, I saw a man whose interest in life was hanging by a single thread, the thought of saving the life of his wife, and very little beyond that. It seemed that whatever happened to him all those years ago has frozen not only his body, but his mind too, as he seemed cold and detached from emotions, speaking always in this strange, almost robot-like manner, but later I learned that it wasn't entirely true. He was sometimes capable of strong emotional responses, especially when it came to Nora, though most of the time he did regarded the world with a calm, level-headed attitude, which was one of the reasons why I came to like him so much. He never wanted to hurt anyone who didn't truly deserve it, which made him so different from the other rogues here.

Getting close to him wasn't easy though, me being a total stranger who came out of nowhere to pry into his personal life. Forming relationships, beyond anything business related that would help him achieve his goal was redundant for him, so I had to approach him carefully. At the end of that first session I felt a deep pity for the man, but I was clever not to show it. Mr. Freeze certainly wasn't in such a desperate situation for me to feel pity for him, and I knew it would only make him angry. My sympathy though was something he appreciated, especially when he realised I was utterly sincere about it. He didn't need a psychiatrist, he needed someone to talk to, a friendly face in the midst of people whose hearts were often much colder than his icy prison cell. And so I asked him about his wife. Not about the accident or her illness, no, I ask him to tell about the past, to tell me about what she was like when they were together. It was hard for him, I could see, but he did fulfill my request, and though I never met her, in front of my mind's eye he painted a picture of a woman who was the center of his attention even before all this happened, a kind and beautiful angel that he loved so much. I was such a moving tale it brought tears to my eyes, and before I left that day, I took all my courage, walked up to him and placed a hand on his freezing shoulder.

"You will have that again," I said, looking into his eyes seriously. "I don't know what will happen, but I believe that one day, you two will be together again. Think about that, Victor," I added, seeing the doubt in his eyes. "because in reality, nothing else really matters but the love you shared."

I left the cell behind me, but could not shake the melancholy that suddenly plagued my mind when I though about the poor man and the empty words I just gave him. I meant them of course, every word, but I also realised how ridiculous it was saying those words to a man who might very well spend the remainder of his life locked away in an insane asylum, never seeing his wife again. As the guards led me out of the Extreme Incarceration area, I turned around and took a one last look at his cell, before the door closed shut. And as I, alone, walked through the asylum's corridors, I suddenly felt a thought that was most unbecoming of someone who worked in this place, someone aware of the danger the people locked in here presented. I thought about how Victor Fries was wasting away here while he should be outside working on his cure and I realised, suddenly, that I wouldn't mind if he escaped. I quickly shook the thought away as I walked out of the building, when I ran into someone I really did not want to see at the moment. It was doctor Thomas, and his quick strides as he walked towards me told me that it was sadly me he wanted to speak too. I suppressed an annoyed eye roll as I turned to look at him with a somewhat friendly smile on my face. "What is it, doctor Thomas?"

"Oh, please, we're colleagues." he said, smiling brightly. "Call me Ryan." He was acting like nothing happened between us last time I saw him, at the same time ignoring the fact that I've been actually avoiding him for the last few days, but I did not wish to speak to him any more than I had to so I just went along with it. "Very well, Ryan. What can I do for you? I am kinda busy at the moment." I said, prepared to go to do anything but staying here with him.

"Ehm, I was told the warden wanted to speak with you." he said, and I nodded, before quickly retreating. "All right, thanks for telling me." I saw in the corner of my eye as he stood there, looking rather stunned as I left, but I didn't care. He was an idiot, one that I was not going to bother myself with. I walked across the asylum grounds to the mansion, thinking about what the warden wanted to speak to me about. I remembered Crane's words from the other day and I was getting quite nervous as I neared the warden's office. I didn't want to get into trouble, not for something I thought to be right.

As I was about to open the door, I stopped and listened as I could hear muffled voices inside. Then, a deep, commanding voice called out: "Come in, doctor Jones. You are expected." Listening to that voice gave me chills as I stepped inside, and there I saw the warden talking to a much taller man with bald head and a thick, neatly trimmed beard. The grey eyes under his round glasses were cold and calculating, and looking into them gave me a feeling of staring into two bottomless, empty wells. When he smiled at me and reached a hand for a handshake I had a strong urge to recoil from him, but I was able to keep myself in check as I shook his black-gloved hand. "Thank you for coming, doctor Jones." spoke the warden from his position in the chair. "Please meet doctor Hugo Strange, he's my advisor occasionally when it comes to the asylum and a prominent figure in the field of psychiatry."

I nodded, and smiled, as I looked at the my fellow doctor again. "Nice to meet you, doctor Strange." At this time, I couldn't possibly know about what the future will bring, and what did this foul and malicious man had in store for all of us, but I could feel when I looked at him, as he stared at me, the cold grip of fear that I was barely able to hide. That man was evil, and he couldn't hide it at all. I felt like I couldn't bare to be in the same room with him a minute longer when, to my relief, he took his bag from the table and headed for the door. "It was nice meeting you too, doctor Jones, but now it is time for me to depart. I will see you next week the same time, mr. warden. Farewell for now." I watched him leave, staring at the door until I could no longer hear the echo of his footsteps, and only then did I turn back to the warden.

"Who is he, sir?" I asked, still rather agitated.

"Nobody really knows, to tell you the truth. He used to travel a lot and now he has a practice in Gotham, but according to him, he much prefers to spend time in places like this. I know very little about his past, but he had excellent credentials and I can hardly deny his expertise. I am truly grateful for his assistance." he said, and there was something weird in his voice, something I couldn't put my finger on. Nervously, I gulped, and then I shook my head and approached the warden's desk. "I hope I will meet him again, then. Did you want to speak to me sir?" I asked carefully, and the warden squinted at me from behind his glasses.

"Yes, doctor Jones. First of all, how do you like it here in Arkham so far? You've been here for a week, has everything met your expectations?" he asked, and I narrowed my eyes in apprehension at his fake amiable tone.

"So far everything has been good, sir." I said carefully. "I think I have made some good progress with my patients, and I hope to make more in the future. In fact," I added, deciding to voice a thought I had for a while. "if you aren't against it terribly I wanted to ask you if you could, perhaps, assign me another patient early."

"And by another patient you mean another rogue, I guess?" he answered slowly, a frown forming on his face.

"Well... yes," I admitted. "if possibly. I have currently only four of them now, but mr. Freeze and Ivy doesn't need as much attention and we're only meeting once a week, the only ones who are really taking my time are the Scarecrow and Killer Croc. Between them and the more regular patients I have a lot of free time, and I wouldn't mind dedicating it to another one from the Rogue Gallery." I looked at him, pleading. "I'm asking you for one, nothing more."

"No." he answered immediately. "I'm sorry, but no. I know it may seem like you have a lot of time now, doctor, but you've been for a week and trust me, once you spend more time with the patients you already have, you will certainly reconsider taking another one. Understand please, I am not underestimating you, I am merely trying to prevent this job from getting over you head at such an early stage because of your overenthusiasm. Now, with that being said, I believe we are done here."

I sighed and shook my head, trying it for the last time. "With all due respect, sir, I believe I can handle it. Just one more patient from one of the doctors, that's all I'm asking, I think the Riddler for example would be a lot more satisfied if I…"

"Doctor Jones." he interrupted, looking at me sharply as he clasped his hands, leaning his elbows against the table. "It seemed I haven't explained this to you properly. You have been here for only a week so far and you are in no position to make such demands of me. As for mr. Nigma, I see no reason to think that doctor Thomas is not capable enough to treat him fairly. You should be grateful for the patients that I have given you, if it was for me, you and doctor Quinzel would not even see any of the rogues for many months, but doctor Strange thought it would be a good challenge for you if we put you in some real action. I personally am starting to regret that decition."

"What do you mean?" I asked, but inside, I already knew what he was talking about. I could only sigh and prepare for the storm. "Doctor Jones, from what both doctor Thomas and mr. Cash told me, you seem really, how should I put it, inappropriately interested in your patients. From what I've heard yesterday, you've even promised Waylon Jones that you will hold his session in the sewers. Whatever reason you have for it, I really don't believe it's a good idea."

I lowered my head and closed my eyes. This was going to be unpleasant. "Sir, it's just a try. I mean, he clearly feels more comfortable there, and I don't have a problem with it, so why not? It's possible he'll be much more willing to talk down there. And the guards will be there with me if anything happens."

"Very well, do as you wish." he said resignedly, but his frown deepened. "But I am not done yet. Can you explain to me, please, why are you acting towards these patients the way you are? I heard you were speaking with Isley for any hours about her plants and that your session with Killer Croc was more like a friendly banter, with you actually encouraging him into recalling his "adventures"." he spat the last word. "And I don't even want to know what you were talking about with Crane, but let me remind you why you're here, doctor. Your task is to get something out of them, something we can use to get the illusions of their heads. You're not supposed to coddle them and be their friend, perhaps you can do that in your "free time", as you call it, but in the sessions with them you will do some real work, you understand? That is unless you want to lose your job here."

I looked at the warden with narrowed eyes, thinking about all the things I wanted to say to him in that moment. How could a man like this be in charge of this facility? At the end I sighed, trying to calm myself down, knowing there was probably no point in arguing with him, and I nodded. "Very well, mr. warden, I understand what you mean, I was simply trying to use a more friendly approach to get them to open up to me more easily, but I will try to keep my sessions more professional in the future. Thank you for not giving up on me yet."

I felt the room as quickly as I could, leaning my back against the wall outside the office. "Bastard." I mumbled, and I retreated into my office. It was after noon now, and in a few minutes, I was about to have another session with Killer Croc.

As I headed towards the Intensive Treatment building where I was supposed to meet Cash and the other guards, I had to smile as I thought about my reptilian patient. Sure he was terrifying, oh yes, he was, but he was also very fascinating, and obviously much more human that he'd let people to believe. I knew he had a horrible past as many of the other people here, him being bullied for most of his life for being different. I hated bullies, more so because I too was the centre of their attention when I was young being a loner and a bit of a nerd, much rather spending time with a book than talking to the other students about whatever idiocy they were currently interested in. Fortunately I wasn't the worst case at school, as I was mostly just left alone, but still, sometimes I thought bullying should serious be consider as crime.

I met with the guard in front of the building and they took me down to its sublevels where the entrance to the sewers was located. I shivered when we arrived there, it was very cold, the air chilled from the water. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" Cash asked me, his face filled with concern, but I smiled at him, trying to reassure him. He was obviously a good man, and I felt a little guilty about snapping at him earlier this week.

We entered the sewer through the barred entrance, and we walked a short corridor, Cash and the guards walking in front of me with their guns prepared, before we arrived to the series of canals that were barely bridged by thin wooden platforms. I was reluctant to step on those, but fortunately, Cash had no such intention in mind. "We stop here." he said, and then he called out into the tunnels. "Hey, Croc, your doctor's here!" At first, there was a growl in a distance and then, nothing, so I rolled my eyes and stepped forward to gently call: "Waylon! It's me, doctor Jones! Will you come out, please?" There was a pause and the soft sounds of splashing water, and then, suddenly, after a few seconds of waiting the water in front of us bursted out as as the huge green body of Killer Croc crashed through it and landed in the corridor. I stared at him in awe as he turned towards us and growled. "I'm warning ya, doc, I am not in a good mood."

Doing some quick thinking, I tried to think of what might cause Croc to be so grumpy, and then, thinking the simplest solution is usually the right one, I turned to Cash. "Has anybody fed him yet?" I asked, and he shook his head dismissively. "No, not yet, we were gonna feed him after the session, doctor, no need for you to worry about it." I rolled my eyes as I looked at Killer Croc, who was quietly seething at the edge of the water. They would actually let him have a session without anything to eat first? No doubt he was so eager to eat his doctors. The more I heard about the practises in this asylum, the more I believed that the reason there was so much wrong with this facility was not the result of poor security, but the absolute disregard for the patients' living conditions, and, more importantly, their rights.

"Mr. Cash," I said. "please be so kind and have somebody bring him his meal, won't you?" I did not care about anything the warden said, I will not have my patient talk on an empty stomach, I was quite hungry myself as I didn't have time for lunch yet. "I'm sure nobody would have a problem with you feeding him an hour earlier, and I am not in a hurry."

Cash wasn't very happy about it, but at the end, he waved his hand over it and just did as I said. After a short time, he returned, and my eyes widened as I saw dragging a fresh torso of a cow inside with the help of one of the guards. Croc, however, perked up at the sighed of it, so I smiled, and said to Cash: "Thank you, mr. Cash. Now put it here, please, and leave." Cash turned around to look at me in shock. "What did you say, doctor?"

"I said leave us, wait by the bars over there." I pointed at the entrance to the corridor. "You don't like it either when someone is staring at your plate while you're eating, do you?"

"So we ought to leave, but you can stare at him all you want?" At first he looked like he was about to forbid it, but when he saw my determined expression, he conceded. He sighed and looked at Killer Croc, who currently had his eyes only for the meat on the floor, and then he handed me a small, black device with several buttons. "This is madness, doctor, you know that, but fine, you just take this, it's a remote control for the collar. If he tries anything, just press it, and we'll come running. I waited for them to leave, and then I stepped away from the carcass to give Croc some space, before I turned to him with a smile, gesturing to it. "He, it's all yours."

I watched as the giant crocodile man lumbered towards the meal, lowered himself down and started devouring it. It seemed to me now that it wasn't much of a meal to begin with, and so it didn't take long for him to done with it. When he raised his head again, there wasn't much of it left. Then, he suddenly sniffed, and turned to be, seemingly forgetting for a second that I was even there. "You still here?" he rumbles, but it was a much less unpleasant sound as before. I smiled at him and nodded. "Evidently." I said, and then I sat by one of the tunnel's walls.

"Thanks." he acknowledged, before he moved and sat down next to me. "I was hungry."

"I could see that." I grinned. "And it was nothing. I don't like doing things hungry either, and I wouldn't want you to eat me instead." I joked and he laughed, before saying. "Then why did you want the guards to leave?" he remarked, stood up and came closer to me. Dangerously closer to me. As he towered over me I did my best not to freak out, and I rose to my feet too, so I could look into his eyes, before turning away from him. "Well, you see, it's much more pleasant to talk when you're not being overheard by people who cannot keep their mouth shut." Seeing my anger, he stopped, and just looked at me expectantly. "Last time we spoke together he just couldn't keep himself from telling the warden about everything that happened with all the details. I was in the warden's office today and it seems like I have officially made the warden angry because I actually care about you all. I was lucky he didn't fire me."

I was looking away from him, so I couldn't see it, but Croc's eyes suddenly soften at this as he looked at me, before he said: "Cash is a bastard, same as the old warden. I look forward to the day when I get this collar off so I can finish what I started." he growled, but then he smiled as I looked at him. "I like you, doc, you're not like the others. If you carry on the way you do, the warden may not like you, but you're certainly gonna make a lot of friends on the inside, if you catch my meaning."

I did, and I smiled, cause I could hear the comradeship in his voice as he spoke, and I couldn't help but feeling happy at his words. We spend the rest of our time in the sewers talking about many things, him for the first time actually being interested in me, and as he was much calmer after his meal I found out he could actually be a rather nice companion after all. I told him about my life, and before long he began talking about his without me even suggesting it. And then it was over, and I had left Killer Croc in the sewers in a much better mood then before.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: So, Katherine is, I think, quickly turning into a much braver (or much more stupid) person that I originally made her, but this time, I really wanted to put some emphasis on the relationships she is slowly building with the patients in Arkham as she figures out her own affinity towards them._

_To the kind guest who left a review on my story, no, sadly, Katherine loves Killer Croc, but only as a very close friend, she will however not fall in love with him, she is destined for someone else, though, sadly, it will take some time before they both acknowledge their feelings._

_So, let's continue onward!_

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 7.**

Sitting in my office, I glanced at the clock to see how much time did I have before my next session with the Scarecrow, a third one this week. It was 15:45, which meant I had only fifteen more minutes to prepare. Crane was meant to be my last patient for today before I'd be allowed to leave for the weekend, and while I felt kinda sad at the thought of not seeing any of the patients for two days, I really needed to take some rest, but for now I was trying to calm down as I was feeling a little agitated and I didn't want Crane to see. After my session with Killer Croc I was still a bit chilled from being in the damp sewers for so long and so I headed in my warm office in somewhat of a hurry, when suddenly, I rounded the corner only to almost bump into a group of heavily armed guards.

"Are you ok, doctor?" the one in the front and the one I almost ran into asked with concern in his voice. "Of course." I nodded, smiling at him. "Sorry, officer, I wasn't paying much attention." I said, and I glanced behind him, noticing they were currently in a process of moving a patient. "I'll just get out of your way so you can cont…" suddenly my voice has died off as I moved to the side to let them pass, and I saw exactly who they were in charge of. "Oh my god." I said before I was able to stop myself. "You are Victor Zsasz, are you?" I breathed out as I looked at the sight in front of me.

That was the first time I actually saw Victor Zsasz, the famous serial killer, who was currently strapped to one of those upright gurneys they were using here to transport the most dangerous of their patients, but that didn't make him look any less unnerving as he glanced over at me. He wore the classic orange Arkham trousers, but the upper part of his body was naked as he wanted to display the collection of thin tally mark scars cut into his skin, each representing one of his victims. There were many of them.

"Perhaps." he said in that strange, sing-song voice of his, as he tilted his head to the side, looking at me with mildly curious eyes. "It does not really matter, doctor... Jones." he continued and my eyes widened in slight shock. I knew as much as Crane was a dangerous person, it was never a good thing for Zsasz to know anything about you. "And how would you know my name, mr. Zsasz?" I asked him, trying to sound calm.

"Oh, there are talks about you, you know? A lot of interesting rumours coursing through the walls of the Penitentiary. Even the Riddler stopped by to talk to me once." He was watching me intently, as I thought about what he said, his eyes never leaving mine. It was quite unnerving to say the least, but somehow, I managed to form a response, along with a weak smile on my face as I replied: "Well, I hope these are good talks." I wanted to speak to him more, but the guards were eager to move and the one leading the charge has interrupted me impatiently. "I am sorry, doctor, but we really need to get him to his session. There are other prisoners we still have to escort."

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry." I said as I stepped aside and watched as they wheeled the killer towards dr. Whistler's office, and, shaking my head, I continued towards my own. I admired the old woman's bravery to actually take on such an extreme case, but at the same time I was really worried for her safety. While other patients might have been dangerous and highly unpredictable, many of them were actually rather talkable when you knew how to engage them in a conversation, but Victor Zsasz was simply a killer who really loved his job, which always kind of seemed contradictory to me with his claim that he in a way wanted to "help" all these people. In time, I got used to this trait of his, and once I didn't have a reason to fear him, I managed to actually find depths to his character than no one probably discovered before.

Presently though, as I entered my office, I sank down in my chair and breathed a silent: "Wow." in response to the situation I've just been through. I could understand why everybody feared him, true, but at the same time I was utterly thrilled by the encounter, and I couldn't understand why nobody could see how fascinating that man was... however, it was not time to dwell on that, as, breathing slowly, I had to prepare myself for the task ahead.

While the first session, I think, was about both of us sizing the other one up, the second one was about doctor Crane constantly trying to turn my questions on me, making me doubt myself and my efforts in this asylum, and digging up tiny snippets of information that might give away my personal fears. Having a session with him was a truly tiring effort because of the necessity to be always on your guard. The only time when I allowed myself to let it down was when he was talking, for letting him talk, just listening to his voice was a true delight, not mentioning the fact that while some of his outlook on life and people was a little bit too dark, he generally seemed to really know what he was talking about. And as I figured out the Scarecrow really loved to talk, so I gave him plenty of opportunities to do just that. I think I have gained, during the first two sessions, many plus points for being genuinely interested in the discussed topic, which he could of course see, and the fact that I have not, so far, accosted him verbally for his crimes like all the psychiatrist did before certainly helped as well. All in all, I still didn't know what could possibly be in his head concerning me, but at least he couldn't deny that I was trying. So I was hoping that today would go well.

"You know what I don't understand?" I said a few minutes later as I once again found myself face to face with the former psychiatrist. "They don't give you a straightjacket, not even handcuffs, even when they know you're one of Gotham's most dangerous criminals, physically and mentally." I remarked, seeing as he sat on the couch in my office, with his hands crossed over his chest, but otherwise looking quite comfortable. I was sitting in the armchair opposite of him, pretending to be relaxed, but I'm sure he could see how I was feeling from the way I was clutching the panic button in my hand."

"Why, doctor, you're flattering me." he said, grinning. "But you see, I am good at pretending things, when I want, and in this facility, good behavior can get you places... sometimes. They all know I'm dangerous, given the opportunity, but they think without my mask and my toxin I can't possibly cause any harm. Of course, the guards have weapons, and I am no fool, but it is amusing to think how the people in this facility constantly make the same mistakes, and they never seem to learn."

"Not that you would mind of course." I observed, deciding to bring up a certain event that happened before my coming here. "So, before our last session, I had the opportunity to view the recordings from your sessions with doctor Kellerman." I said, watching his expression carefully. "Tell me, was it something about him that made you do what you have done to him, or was there other particular reason?" I was, at this point, trying to, in a somewhat and yet not at all inconspicuous way, discern what exactly was a reason for him being so antagonistic towards his previous doctors, and whether there was a way for me to avoid that. He picked up on that immediately as he looked me over with his ever watchful eyes and smiled.

"Oh, doctor, if you've really watched all of these tapes than you've surely noticed how arrogant that man was. Nothing wets your appetite for causing some permanent brain damage than a man who thinks himself better than you. He should have known better than trying to outsmart me." he said cheerfully, laughing. "To be fair, it's not his fault that he was placed so conveniently at hand, but if he considered himself clever, he should have filed a transfer. My research must go on doctor, you can't exactly blame me for using what resources I have at my disposal, and my doctors are currently the only test subjects I have." he mused, looking completely serious. Then he looked at me and continued. "But you seem somewhat nervous, doctor, I wonder why? Is it me?" he spoke softly now, but I could see the twinkling in his eyes that indicated that he was quite enjoying himself, and I cursed inwardly, for I've let myself get slightly spooked by the casual way he spoke about using someone for a mentally crashing science experiment.

Then, I sighed, and decided to be truthful, at least partially. "No, it's just... I've met mr. Zsasz while I was heading back to my office, he was led by the guards to his session and I kind of bumped into them. It's not an encounter you forget so easily."

"Ah, yes, the man's tragic descent into insanity is a sad tale, but with an intriguing result." the Scarecrow said, speaking with a certain amount of interest for his fellow criminal. "How many Gothamites roll around in bed at night having nightmares about him breaking into their house from a single article read in a newspaper?" he chuckled. "He has a powerful effect on everyone he meets, such and admirable trait." the Scarecrow added, and then he looked at me, and his voice lowered into that professional lull he used to psychoanalyze people. "What about you, doctor? Do you fear what his very personality represent? The unrelenting, inescapable inevitability of death that awaits us all in the end, some sooner than later if mr. Zsasz had his way?"

This conversation was not getting in a way that I wanted, so I decided to cut him off slowly. "He makes my skin crawl because he is creepy, but I agree with you that he is quite fascinating at the same time. As for your enquiry, name one person to me who isn't afraid of death in some way. That's probably one of the things that defines humanity as a whole, and the main reason why we have so many religions around the world. But that is a discussion for a longer time that we don't have." I said, pushing into my voice a sense of finality. "But yes, I have reviewed those session materials carefully and I personally think that doctor Kellerman was an idiot in his attitude towards you. But still…" I added, thinking how to steer the conversation back to some lighter topic. "How did you manage to smuggle the fear toxin in here?" I asked, and I shivered as I saw Crane's lips lift up in a knowing smile.

"Oh, my dear doctor, a magician must keep some of his secrets. I can only say that these people should reconsider the quality of their security more often. It would do them a lot of good."

I stared at him for a few second, and then moved to sit in my chair, where a small recorder sat on the wooden surface of the table. I really didn't like doing this, but Sharp insisted that it was necessary. Lightly, I pressed the button to stop recording our conversation, turned to him, and stated: "So, I see that the Riddler is really not the only one sneaking around at night." It was a huge risk, telling him that, but I was hoping that the fact that I was not trying to incriminate him by saying it on record was enough to make him not threaten my life right away. He stared back at me, trying to guess my intentions, and for those few seconds I think I did manage to catch him slightly of guard, but then he leaned back on the sofa and said: "Well, well, well, so you actually managed to catch the Riddler red-handed, or rather, green-handed, so to speak, and you didn't think to notify the guards? Interesting. And now we're here, you talking to me like a conspirator to my crimes. You should be careful, doctor, before you fall into a world that is not very kind to people who know nothing about it. Unless of course that was your intention all along."

"Actually, I just wanted to know if I was right." I said, shrugging my shoulders as nonchalantly as I could. "You are, after all, clever enough to pull it off." I sighed, shaking my head. I knew I was treading some dangerous waters now, but I was hoping we could set up some understanding between us. Preparing for the session with Crane has given a lot of time to think, and after spending some time with him I personally had to agree with the statements the previous doctors made in his file - that he was not actually insane. He was a brilliant, highly intelligent man, perfectly capable of understanding that what he did was wrong. I was of the opinion that this was a place for him to be, since there was a simple truth that prevented all those selfless doctors from curing him, one that wouldn't be so easy to get rid of, not without a good motivation.

"Look," I said evenly. "I am not going to tell anyone, I never intended to. I am telling you this, because I would like us to work with each other in peace, my peace to be precise. I know that I should be afraid of you, I know that my mind is no match for yours, it would be extremely stupid of me to think otherwise, which is exactly what Kellerman and the other doctors did, but I won't." Scoffing, I rose from my chair and moved back into my previous seat. "I came here with a certain confidence in myself, but I think I can recognize when something is a waste of time, so from now on I will dedicate these session to you in the name of curiosity, because... I have no illusions about the possibility of you getting "cured", no more than I have for the Joker as much as Harley may think otherwise, simply because neither of you want to be cured."

That statement, delivered with a bit more passion that I intended, has earned a thoughtful expression on the Scarecrow's face and a slight nod of appreciation. "Well then," he spoke slowly. "you are certainly wiser than the other doctors in Arkham, indeed."

I smiled slightly when he said that, and I nodded. "All right then, I think we should wrap this up." I said, as I walked back to the recorder and turned it on, feeling, for some reason, a lot better than before. "All right, doctor Crane, I think we will end the session for now. I wish you good night, and I will see you again next week." As I turned off the recorder, for good this time, I went to knock on the door to signal the guards, but then I remembered something else and stopped, turning to Crane. "By the way, I hope you enjoyed that book." I said with a smile.

"That was from you?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes." I said. "You weren't in your cell, so I just put it there. I imagined you must be bored in this place, so I brought you a little something. You do like reading, right?"

The Scarecrow looked at me incredulously and nodded. "Doctor, you're unbelievable." he said, shaking his head, and for the first time in our three sessions, he didn't seem so guarded and calculating, as the smile on his face actually seemed genuine. "With this kind of attitude, you really ought to to be careful, or the warden's going to lock you here with the rest of us soon. By the way," the doctor added. "You may want to keep an eye on your friend, she seems to be getting quite close with the clown. It's not very good to play with fire, for either of you." he said, and with that, we parted ways.

As soon as the Scarecrow left my office, I walked out as well and went to find Harley. We were supposed to have a dinner together tonight, and the Scarecrow's words made me rather worried. I had not have much time to speak with her while I was here at work, but when I did meet her the Joker did seem to be the central topic of our conversations. I understood, he was, after all, quite the fascinating subject to study, just as much as my Scarecrow, so, before that, it didn't worry me so much, but now I was becoming concerned as to what will become of Harley's growing obsession. Anyway, I couldn't find her in her office, her last session was an hour ago, but her things were still there, so I knew she was still at Arkham.

I went out to search the grounds, gradually heading towards the west side of the island, when, once again I met a certain young colleague who I most certainly did not want to see. "Doctor Jones... Katherine, nice to see you again. You're heading home?" he said and smiled brightly at me.

"Not yet, I have to find Harley. What about you? I thought you would be gone by know."

"Oh, I would love to go home." he said, his brows furrowing. "but I still have a session with the Riddler. Those sessions are never good for my nerves, he's always bothering me with his riddles so we can hardly do any work." he complained angrily, and I knew I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help but laugh heartily as I thought fondly of the puzzle loving rogue. "Sorry, but is always going to bother you with riddles until you start answering them. Did he give you that riddle with the mutilated baby?"

"Yes!" he barked angrily. "I mean how can he consider something like that funny?" he asked, and I shook my head. "He's not the Joker, he doesn't need them funny, he just needs them effective. But I think this one is a sort of a test of intelligence. Anyway, speaking of the Joker, have you seen Harley?" I asked him, and he nodded. "Yeah, I think I saw her entering the Penitentiary a while ago. Look, wait, Katherine." he said, stopping me as I turned to leave. "I was wondering, well, if you would be interested in going out for a dinner with me today, just a friendly dinner between two colleagues. What do you say?"

I didn't turn around immediately, taking a deep breath as I processed what he was saying. Was he actually asking me out on a date? Really? Was he kidding me? Not that he wasn't handsome, no, he had a handsome face, black hair, and brown eyes, but his character repulsed me at the very least and I frankly didn't want anything to do with him, especially after he told me about his motivations to be here in Arkham. I was feeling really bad for Edward for having to sit through sessions with that idiot. But still, not wanting to be uncivil, I turned around and smiled. "Why, Ryan, I didn't think, after that argument we had a few days ago, that you wanted to have anything to do with me."

It seemed to take him a few seconds remembering what I was talking about, but when he did, he waved his hand, and smiled earnestly, or at least it seemed. "Oh, that was nothing, don't worry about it. I had a bad day, and I should actually appologize to you, so, I'm very sorry. Does this mean you're accepting?"

"No, actually." I shook my head. "I'm already having a dinner with Harley today, that's why I'm actually going to find her. Perhaps some other time." I said, turning to walk away, but I still managed the quick look of anger that passed through his eyes before he smiled again. "Some other time, then." he said quietly, but I was no longer listening.

I went into the Penitentiary as instructed, but finding Harley was not difficult at all at the end. As I was approaching the area housing the Rogue Gallery, nearing Jonathan Crane's cell I heard a soft giggling and a roaring laughter that could only belong to the Clown Prince of Crime himself. I made my way to the corner and peaked around it carefully, watching the scene unfolding before me. There, in front of the clown's cell, was Harleen Quinzel, smiling and occasionally laughing to some joke he told her. I watched them for a while, as the Joker smiled at her, being all charm, and she seemed as genuinely happy as I haven't seen her in a long time. The unnerving part was that this did not looked like an appropriate relationship between a doctor and a patient. It looked more like a meeting of two secret lovers, judging from the almost adoring looks she was throwing his way. It made me worried, and so I decided it would perhaps be for the best to stop whatever was going on, and so I casually stepped from behind the corner and spoke: "Having fun, are we?" I asked, and she jumped and turned around, looking very much like a guilty child. "Katherine!" she squealed. "You scared the hell out of me." she called out and I laughed slightly, when the Joker suddenly spoke from being her: "Yeah, doc, don't scare my favourite doctor, that's my job. Aaand perhaps Johny-boy's over there. Hey, Johny, how's it going?!" he shouted across the hall, but there was no answer.

"Guess he doesn't want to talk to you." I said calmly, as I looked at the clown inside the cell. Looking at him now, I did realise that someone might consider the clown even handsome, with his long chin and his sharply defined features, those green, almost glowing eyes and the rich, green colour of his hair that fit strangely well with the rest of his appearance, but there was always something, that crazed look in his eyes that never seem to leave... still, when he wasn't currently threatening your life, the wide smile on his face was contagious, and right now his smile was as innocent as it could be, though his eyes were gleaming with mischief. "Nice to meet your, Joker." I smiled back, knowing Harley most certainly already told him who I was, so there was no need for introduction.

"All right, Harley, are you coming?" I asked, turning to my friend, laughing as the Joker bowed, putting his hand on his heart, and then plopping back on his cot comically, realising his fun was probably over.

Harley stopped laughing when I asked my question and checked her watch. "Oh, jeez, sorry, Katherine, I forgot the time. I'll just grab my stuff from the office and we're goin'." I shook my head, chuckling as I spurred her forward slightly, as it was getting late, casting one last look at the Joker who, for now, appeared to be fast asleep in his cell already.


	8. Chapter 8

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 8.**

That Monday morning I came back into the asylum with my energy renewed and in a rather good mood that lasted for most of the day. I did not have many patients scheduled for the first day of the week fortunately, and so I had some free time on my hands to spend, as inconspicuously I could of course, with my favourite people in the asylum. I highly doubt that the warden would look at me favourably and I'm sure that he'd fire me on the spot if he'd see me having one of my "tea sessions" with Jervis Tetch a.k.a. the Mad Hatter, but I've always found him a rather pleasant company. In the few weeks in the asylum we've been doing this he never once tried anything sinister towards me, so surprised he was perhaps that someone was doing this with him willingly. Granted, it wasn't much of a tea party to begin with, but the man was still grateful, and his wide, toothy smile was much worth the trouble our little meetings could cause. Besides, as I've found out, those who considered the Mad Hatter to be nothing but a delusional schizophrenic could not be far from the truth, at least not at this point in our story. The Mad Hatter was actually rather clever, and since even he, here in his isolated spot deep in the asylum was a part of the local grapevine, those who could read between the lines could uncover a great deal of interesting information from his ramblings, if they were willing to listen.

On that day, I was leaving his cell to go about my duties, trying my best to ignore those sad blue eyes, begging me not to leave yet, and I smiled at him and said: "Oh, now, now, Jervis, I'll visit you again soon. But now I have other parties to attend to and it would be rude to be late, now, wouldn't it?" He seemed to calm down at that, as the thought of being late to such an important appointment was rather horrifying for him, and he nodded before answering: "Oh yes, kind lady, then you must be on your way. But if I can be so bold as to ask a favour of you, if you see the March Hare, please tell him to stop by sometimes. I hear his scraggy feet pattering around here almost every night, and yet I haven't seen him in such a long time. It's not nice to ignore a friend like that."

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him carefully, trying to decide if he was just rambling nonsense to himself, but no, his eyes were looking at me with some clarity in them and it was clear that he was, at least partially, speaking of the real world. From what he said though, it seemed like there were indeed other people running around the asylum at night without anyone noticing, and that could potentially be quite dangerous.

"The March Hare, Jervis?" I asked, confused, thinking about who in this asylum could he possibly dub with that nickname. "Well, of course, miss Katherine, we used to have tea parties a lot together, but these days he is mostly too busy with his experiments to come over, as if he couldn't spare a few minutes, the scoundrel." the Mad Hatter frowned in discontent. "If Alice was here, she'd give him some fine scolding for that, for sure."

I was about to answer him, taking a deep breath, when suddenly there was a commotion in the outside halls, and I left the cell quickly, watching as several guards left their posts and took off running in the direction of the exit. Quickly, I stopped one of them and asked what was going on, as they all seemed rather spooked. "It's... doctor Whistler, doctor. Zsasz has got her. We don't know how he got out of his bindings, but he killed several guards that were transporting him and escaped, taking the doctor hostage in the library with a knife on her neck."

I nodded and sighed, as I knew my peaceful afternoon in the asylum was probably ruined. "All right," I said. "Take me there please." As a response, the guard blinked, looking at me in disbelief, making me huff in frustration. "Well, come on, I'm a psychiatrist, I can at least try to reason with him. He won't be able to threaten me and doctor Whistler at the same time with you being there, but seeing you guys aiming weapons on him will only make him more agitated and he's probably going to end up killing her just from loosing his nerve. Just let me go there and see what I can do, I can hardly make it any worse now, can I?"

At that the guard conceded, and we quickly followed his colleagues through the grounds to the Arkham Mansion's library, and though I've never been in that part of the mansion before, it was not difficult to find the place, as as we walked through the building I could already hear the nervous screams of the already present guards, guiding me towards the situation ahead. The library was a huge, circular space spanning over several floors, it's walls lined with shelves filled with old books. Entering the door at the top floor we ran down through a set of stairs and ended up in front of a small, narrow corridor leading to the lowest level of the library. There there were several guards standing beside the corridor while inside was Victor Zsasz, standing facing the guard's readied guns, holding the doctor in front of him so they couldn't shoot with a sharp knife already covered in blood pressed lightly against her throat. The old doctor was trembling, too scared to even make a noise which was probably for the best as the guards screamed at him trying to get him to see reason.

When they saw me approaching, they all threw me a rather confused looks, but moved aside as I stepped through with my hands in the air. "Victor?" I called gently as I poked my head from around the corner and found myself looking into the dark eyes of Victor Zsasz. "Victor, it's me." I said in a non-confrontational tone as I took a step forward. He smiled at me excitedly, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes that made me stop. "Ah, doctor Jones, have you come to witness my work? To see how I redeem this woman from the shackles of her pointless, miserable life? It will happen soon." He spoke softly and looked down at the terrified woman in his arms. "Soon, my little piggie, you will be liberated from your pitiful existence and I will have a new mark. It has been so long." he said, and carefully I moved again, sighing as I heard the sad tone in his voice.

"Don't come any closer, doctor!" he shouted, gripping the knife a little tighter, and I stopped, raising my hands even higher to show him I was not planning anything fishy. "Look, Victor, I know how frustrating it must be being trapped in here when you have such an important work to do, but please, think about what you're doing." I said urgently, trying to assure him that I had his best interest in mind. "This is really not a good idea. Even if you managed to kill her, you would be shot by the guards behind me and you'd never have the time to make your precious mark." I saw him thinking about my words carefully, so I decided to push it a little bit more. "I don't want you to get hurt, Victor, her life is not worth it." I said, as I nodded towards the other doctor. "Come on, she's old, she's probably gonna be liberated soon even without you."

As I stepped even further, he sneered, and backed a little bit as he pressed the knife into dr. Whistler's skin. "Don't play with me, doctor. I am going to kill her."

I shook my head, taking a step back to ease the situation. "I know you haven't had a chance to continue your work in a long time, Victor, but please, this is really not worth it. Just let her go now and everything will be all ri…" Before I could say anything else, I saw a huge shadow rising behind him as it emerged from a ventilation shaft, and in the split second it took Victor Zsasz to turn around he was already lying on the ground being beaten to unconsciousness as his captive was pushed away to safety. The shadow was, of course, the Batman, and as he stood to look at me I glanced away from Zsasz's unmoving, but fortunately still alive body to stare at his dark mask, managing a smile. "Thank you." he said in his deep voice. "For the useful distraction."

"I was not planning that as a distraction, but I suppose we should all thank you." I said, trying my best not to let is show that I was much less appreciative of the way he handled Zsasz's pacification, but I knew that the killer has probably been through worse and that he'll be all right. Instead, I turned away from the Batman and walked over to dr. Whistler, who has already recovered from the shock of the last few minutes and though there were several bruises and scrapes looked like there was no serious damage. "Are you ok?" I asked with concern as I looked her over and she nodded. "Yes, yes, doctor Jones, thank you. You were very brave back there, and I have to thank you for saving my life, he would have killed me a lot sooner if you haven't shown up, though I think approaching him like that was very stupid." she said sternly. "He could have hurt us both."

"I know…" I admitted, shaking my head slowly. "But I was just trying to help. Also, I am sorry about the way I spoke about you, I was trying to placate him and I did not mean to be so insulting." I spoke apologetically, but the doctor waved it off. "That's quite all right, don't worry about it." she said and winked at me. "I have been watching your progress throughout the week and you seem to have a unique talent for talking to people depending on their mental state through careful observation of their behavior. That is a rare sign of a good psychiatrist." I blushed furiously at her praise and lowered my head slightly, before looking back at her. "Thank you for saying that, doctor Whistler, it means a lot to me. Anyway, I want to ask you for a favour." I said, looking at the killer as the guards put him on a stretcher to wheel him back to his cell. "He's going to be out of it for a while now, but do you think tomorrow you could let me have a few minutes with him in my office? I just want to talk to him you know, to smooth things over. I wouldn't want him to think that I was a part of the Batman's plan to take him down or something."

She looked at me for a minute, than nodded. "I can't see why not. I understand your point, and I guess confronting the problem directly is better then just hiding away from it, and I'm sure with how clever he is, and he is indeed a lot smarter than people give him credit for, that he'll be able to see that you are speaking the truth. Though I still must urge you to use caution, and that goes for all of these patients. Some of them might seem less hostile then others, but in many cases this is just a facade, a manipulation to achieve their goals." I took a breath to say something, but she raised her hand, silencing me. "I have said the same to doctor Quinzel, and I am saying the same to you, again, because you seem like such a good person and I wouldn't want you to get hurt because you are too trusting. I've hurt many things around the asylum, about how kind and caring you've been to them, I even heard that you've been giving them gifts. Now," she said when she saw I wanted to say something again. "most of us here in the asylum don't mind what you are doing, there are people here who care about the patients as much as you do and I personally believe you are doing a huge favour for these poor souls, just be careful around the warden, he has a short temper when it comes to these things... lately it's been getting worse, actually." she fell silent for a bit as she thought about something intently. "But you don't worry about that, I think you've been doing well in this asylum and I hope the warden behaviour doesn't scare you off." she said with a smile. "But I'll let you go, you should take some rest. I'll send him to you tomorrow around noon, before your session with Crane."

After that she excused herself and went to accompany the guards as they moved Zsasz away and I went to have a session with another of my patients, which I was actually running late to, so I had to make it a bit longer to make up for the lost time, and then I went back to my office to get some sleep, as the experience of playing a hero was rather tiring and I had to make up for it with a few hours of well deserved rest. When I woke up though, I found out that I had taken a bit more than a few hours as the light outside was already gone and the clock told me it was after eight p.m. now, which, at this time of the year meant that it was basically night already. I rubbed my eyes as I sat up on the sofa and yawned, before I started to collect my things so I could leave. I didn't pay much attention where I was going as I made my way to the asylum gates, but I wasn't as tired as to not notice a tall, suspicious looking figure sneaking its way into the Intensive Treatment building.

My first instinct was to call the guards, to tell them there was an escaped patient loose somewhere in the building and leave, but I realised quite quickly that whoever it was would most certainly learn that I was the one who snitched on them, and, let's face it, there was no one in Arkham, not with their lousy security, that could promise me that I'll be safe if that happened. I remembered the Riddler's words a few days prior and I decided that the best option for me right now was probably to do nothing, but then it hit me. That feeling that always gets you when you need it the least, but it's often so impossible to ignore and impossible to get rid of. Curiosity. As much as I was afraid to do something that stupid, I wanted to know who it was and what were they gonna do wherever they were going, and so, after a moment of hesitation I hid my bag in the bushes near the gate and, grateful now that I never wore shoes with heels that would make a click with my every step, followed the culprit into the building.

Initially, I managed to catch up to him without being seen, at least, that's what I thought, and I was, though not really I wasn't, surprised that it was, as you might have guessed already, the Scarecrow. Well, it wasn't really the Scarecrow at the moment, Jonathan Crane was in his costume, except for the mask and the special syringe glove he wore, those were obviously stored elsewhere, and I was hoping that that was the place where we were going. Halfway through the Intensive Treatment building though, I have to avoid some guards that were patrolling the place (I have no idea what made me things I couldn't just waltz past them like the doctor I was, I guess I was just caught up in the moment), but when the proverbial coast was clear again there was no sign of him, and I cursed inwardly as I moved through the facility, not quite sure what to do.

That is until I stumbled back into the Holding Cells area and I wandered over to the Riddler's cell to have a chat. Of course, the ever so observant man inside has immediately noticed by rather disappointed expression, and the smile on his face, as he casually lied on his cot leaning against the wall, widened like that of the Cheshire Cat. "Aw, what is it, my dear doctor? Have you lost your white rabbit?" My eyes widened as he spoke, but he shook his head and continued. "Don't you worry, he's not far away." he said, and winked. "A word from a friend, dear Katherine. Go back to the elevators and look carefully. If you do, you might just find his rabbit hole. But be careful," he added, lifting a finger lazily. "Just like Alice should have known, you can never know what you may find when venturing into the unknown, and you can never know what kind of person you'll be if, or when you find your way back." And then, he turned his back on me dismissively, but I could sense, more than I could see that that strange grin has never left his face until I left.

I walked back to the elevators then, and as I passed through the door I started looking around to see anything out of place. There were the two elevator shafts and the elevator cabins themselves sitting at the bottom waiting for someone to call them upstairs. Thinking carefully of when someone might hide a secret hideout, I checked to see if no one was around first, and then, carefully, I began climbing onto one of the cabins to see inside the shaft. It was incredibly dangerous and I didn't want to climb all the way up there in case somebody actually wanted to use the elevator, but I haven't seen anything in the shaft anyway, and so, relieved that I would have to take such a risky route, I climbed back down. But as my feet touched the ground I heard a noise as some tiny stones rolled away from my shoe and down through a small slit between the cabin and the platform I was standing on. I narrowed my eyes as I realised there was not actually a floor under the cabin, but an additional space big enough for me to stand there, as the elevator was actually able to travel even further down. I began walking around the elevator shaft looking for an opening, and sure enough, in one corner of the shaft I found a hole in the cement, the material crumbling away probably through the use of the heavy elevator itself. It seemed while the staff and the visitors occasionally complained about the asylum's obvious state of disrepair, somebody else found it actually useful. The hole wasn't very large and it wouldn't be big enough for someone like the Batman for example to pass through, but for a person with a smaller stature like me or the Scarecrow it took a little effort to slip through without any problems, if you were careful enough to mind your head. Down there it was dark, but after a while my eyes got used to it and I saw a ventilation shaft. Slipping inside I rounded a corner and arrived to what seemed like a small cave, spider webs hanging from the ceiling and mushrooms growing on the rocky walls. Straw was lining the floor of the cave and along the walls, I could see several pieces of laboratory equipment and in the corner, a bunch of tall, metal canisters with what looked like the Scarecrow's symbol on them. There was no doubt as to what was inside.

All of that I observed still hidden within the shaft, but now I looked ahead to see the Scarecrow himself, now in his full costume, standing but a few feet away from me. He was standing with his back towards the shaft, so he couldn't see me now, but as I watched, I suddenly find myself without any idea what to do now that I have found him. The Scarecrow, however, chose to solve this problem for me, as his calm, deep voice suddenly rang in the silence around us. "Doctor Jones, I was worried you may not catch up after all. Now that you're finally here, please, join me." I froze when I heard him speak, and for a moment I contemplated just turning and running away, but his voice did not have an angry or dangerous edge to it, and when he didn't make any threatening moves either, I decided that, since I've went this far, I might as well go forward, and so I slipped down from the shaft and stood for a moment, before I approached, carefully edging my way towards him. "You knew I was following you?" I asked softly.

"Of course." he said, and I could sense the smile in his voice. "You made a good effort, I give you that, but when you live in Gotham for so long, having to watch out for a certain vigilante rodent, you learn to notice pretty quickly when you are being followed."

I nodded, snorting softly. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I should have realised." I said apologetically, and then, even though I was getting rather nervous, I had to smile when I realised something. "Oh, so you are the March Hair! I could have guessed." I said, and he chuckled, before turning to face me. "I spoke with Jervis a while ago, he seems sad that you don't visit him anymore." I added, and, forgetting my fear for a moment, I took some time to observe him as I've never actually seen his costume from up this close. In his Arkham clothes it was never quite so apparent how incredibly thin he was, but now I could see how his ribs were almost visible under his pale skin, though I could also see his arms lined with wiry muscles that hinted at him being a lot stronger than he seemed. While his costume wasn't overly complicated, everything about it was designed to resemble his namesake from the fields, though the noose around his neck gave it a rather macabre twist. His face was covered by his burlap mask and a cowl, but his eyes were visible through the darkness and they now twinkled with amusement as he observed me watching him. All in all, his very appearance was scary, unnerving and utterly fascinating at the same time. "Yes, well, Jervis' mind has been progressively going off the deep end, I'm afraid this asylum has not been very good for him, especially certain people. Sadly I am in no position, nor do I have the patience right now to deal with this problem." he said after a while. "I hope that wasn't the reason for your disturbing me here.."

At that I slowly shook my head and sighed, taking a step back. "Not really. I was just... curious, especially when I found out it was you." I admitted, and the Scarecrow stopped to look at me properly, his eyes boring into me as he was trying to see into my very soul. "You know what they say about curiosity, doctor." he said, his voice darkening for a minute, and the reality of what I was actually doing suddenly fell on me hard as a block of ice. I was here, alone, with the Scarecrow, and though we might have started on a relatively friendly terms, I was a doctor from Arkham now intruding on his personal space, creating a potential risk to everything. From some twisted point of view he would actually have the right to kill me. But I've already done it, there was no way back now, and that thought was probably what caused me to through my caution to the wind completely. "I know." I said, looking into his eyes. "But I certainly am not a cat." I squirmed under his intense look for a while, hoping against all odds that he'd take the risk, and then, by some miracle, I saw him relax and once again the tone of his voice lightened as he spoke: "No, you really are not." He then took a step to the side so I could see what he was doing and waved his hand in a gesture of invitation. "Then come and have a look."

I approached a small chemistry table with several apparatus on it meant for chemical processing. There was a steaming, greenish liquid in one of the flasks covered with a cork and it the form of a gas it was slowly flowing through a long tube inside a small test tube. I stared at it for a while, before I turned my head to him. "So this is your secret, you're not actually smuggling the fear gas here, you're cooking it right here under everyone's noses. How did you find this place?" I asked, my curiosity rising.

"I actually found this place only a few months back. Since I couldn't find a place in the asylum where I could work in peace," he grinned bitterly. "I moved some equipment here. It's not as spacious as I would like, but I doubt anyone remembers this little nook even exists anymore and it's been serving me rather nicely."

"I see." I said, glancing at the canisters in the corner. "So this is your famous fear gas?" I nodded towards them and then I looked at him, watching what his reaction would be.

"Yes, this is it." he said proudly, and then, making me shiver, his eyes took a devilish gleam, more wicked than actually dangerous, but still it did not promise anything good. "Take a sniff." He, said, and I looked at him wide eyed as he pointed at one of the flasks on the table. The liquid in this one was slightly lighter than in the others, but it still looked rather menacing and I looked back at the Scarecrow with fearful disbelief. "Come on, doctor, you said you were curious." he said in a mockingly friendly tone. "One whiff of my fear gas will not kill you." I realised that this must have been a challenge of some sort, and, slowly, I come closer to the table to look carefully at the liquid inside the flask. It was venomous green in colour, and I did not feel like doing what the Scarecrow said at all, but at the same time, I wanted to prove him that I am as trustworthy as I said, and so, at the end, I took the flask in my hand before I could change my mind, pulled out the cork and took a quick breath from it.

It was only a small whiff of the stuff, but almost immediately, as I began coughing as the gas scratched at my throat, I could feel my pulse and my breath quicken in tandem with my heartbeat as the edge of my vision darkened. Everything around me went out of focus for a moment and my depth of vision went all wonky suddenly as I felt a strong feeling of dizziness wash over me, followed by a vertigo as if I was standing on a pole swaying in the wind. I haven't seen much in terms of other hallucinations, but I'm sure I was lucky that I did not turn to look at the Scarecrow at that moment. I closed my eyes and leaned against a wall I knew was there to wait until my drug induced fear of heights passed, and only then did I turn to look at Crane. I still shook as my racing heart calmed down, but when I was finally able to catch my breath I actually felt well enough to smile at him. "Wow." I breathed out, wiping the thin sheet of sweat from my brow. "That was something."

I glanced at the Scarecrow just in time to see a rather surprised look upon his face, as he obviously did not expect me to actually do it. "Well, that was actually just a non-distilled version of the compound." he said, his voice unreadable as he regained his composure. "It takes several delicate processes in a precise sequence to create the final, much more effective version of the gas. I make a bit of a different version for this." he paused, raising his gloved fingers fitted with several syringes and small containers with bright, yellow glowing liquid toxin. I watched him with intrigue as he went back to the table and continued with his work. I watched him as he poured several chemicals from a box under the table into the flask I was previously holding and shook it, making it take on the darker colour of the other flasks on the table. At first I thought he forgot about me, but then, as he worked, he threw a question my way nonchalantly. "So... you have Acrophobia?" he asked in a matter-of-fact voice, and I shivered as I recalled the experience some moments ago. "I... not really, it's more like fear of falling, I don't have a problem standing on a mountain or something like that, only when it's something that can fall down with me." I said, watching him carefully. He seems to be really focused on his work, and so I decided to take another gamble. "Look, doctor, I wondering, since I've now had a little insight into your world and survived, and so far you haven't killed me yet, so I don't really feel like leaving, but I don't wish my presence to be a bother, so…" I stuttered, took a deep breath and tried again. "What I'm trying to say is... would you like some help?"

And that was it. At first, he turned around and looked at me like I was crazy, but then, after what felt like an eternity of thinking and yet still seemed like an instance of why-not, he nodded and make some space so I could stand next to him, and for the next several hours he gave me instructions as to what I should do, making sure it was nothing totally dangerous, and yet, after a while, I think it was apparent for both of was that we were a good team. At the university I took a few years of chemistry classes out of curiosity and those paid of nicely now that I had to keep up with him. During those several hours I managed to almost forget as to who I was dealing with and since he was not very talkative when he was in the middle of his work we spend them in mostly comfortable silence, until he was done and then, as we laid the new canisters with freshly made fear into the corner to the other, he actually removed his mask, and I could see the tired, but content look upon his face. By that time it was almost midnight, but I didn't feel like leaving his presence yet, and he needed to rest a bit so we sat down into the straw and talked, properly talked without anyone's eyes or ears being anywhere around us. During our time together, I was able to get a glance under that facade of the Scarecrow, and I increasingly liked the company of the person he was when he felt save enough to show it. It was an evening that created a partnership between us, a strange fondness that we both felt for each other even though it took a long time for us to openly admit it, but since that day I felt... different every time I walked into the asylum, as if I was no longer a simple doctor here but in some way a part of the asylum itself, and coming here was like coming home, especially when I knew that the Scarecrow, and the others, were here waiting for me...


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: So, once again, a message for the anonymous guest who left a review on my last chapter, yes, she is gonna fall in love with the Scarecrow, but, because neither of them are really people used to having stronger relationships with other people, him being, let's say, kinda asocial in basically all his incarnations, and Katherine being a rather shy person who is just sort of coming out of her shell because she really likes being in the presence of these not-so-normal people... so no they are not going to immediately get married and have kids, no, their relationship evolves slowly over the course of this story and several sequels this story will have and, for the most part, it will be a case of a very deep friendship between them._

_And thanks also to tamarayann97, who posted a short, but nice review on my story, thank you, I'm not the best writer there is, but I'm trying, and I hope the rest of you readers like my story too. :)_

_Also, before you continue reading this, please skip back to chapter 8, as I've added a little bit that I forgot to include in the chapter as I originally wanted. Otherwise, I hope you are enjoying the story and that you will stay with me for the sequels. :) Now, let's continue... _

**Shadows over Gotham**

**Chapter 9.**

To say that I was nervous when I heard the knock on the door next day, signalling the arrival of Victor Zsasz, just as I requested, would be an understatement of the century. After his previous escape, it was quite evident to me just how poorly the security in Arkham was treated if a serial killer known for showing no discrimination as to who he kills was able to steal a knife from God-knows-where and actually keep it hidden until the point at when he needed it, and so my faith in those who promised me that everything would be "quite all right" has, understandably, waned quite considerably. Still, I needed to go through with this, partly because I honestly, for previously mentioned reasons, did not want to be on mr. Zsasz bad side, as catching his attention was often bad enough, but mostly because I honestly wanted the two of us to be on friendly terms. As I stared at his face as they wheeled him inside, strapped to a gurney and wearing a straight jacket at the same time, I suddenly realised I viewed him in a slightly different light than what I saw a weak ago.

I sat in my office, a cup of tea in my hands to keep me calm (I never quite drank tea before, but now that I've met Jervis Tetch I began to like it quite a lot), and I smiled kindly as the killer arrived, though that smile vanished quickly when I saw the look he was giving me. Obviously my assumptions about what he might think happened yesterday were correct, and I was glad I actually grabbed the courage to do this, even though I still had no idea how to possibly defuse this situation. So I sighed sadly and put my hands on the desk. I looked at the guards with uncertainty as they made no motion to exit the room. Then I looked him in they eyes and tried: "Listen, Victor, I want to you to know that I am very sorry about what happened yesterday. And I want to you to understand that when I decided to approach you, I had no idea that the Batman was coming." I spoke, hoping that he will understand, but I could see clearly in his eyes that he did not believe a word I said.

"You're saying that now because you're scared that I am going to kill you now." he almost hissed, his voice dangerous low and his eyes dark, and I gulped. "No, Victor, please, you have to believe me! I'm telling you this because I want you to know that you can trust me…" I lowered and shook my head as I realised this was not gonna work, and so, after a minute of sorting through my thoughts, I looked at the guards and said: "Gentlemen, could you please give us a minute alone? I would like to have a private word with him." I nearly growled impatiently at the looks that I received in exchange. "He is bound to a metal contraption and unable to move, so unless you've managed to forget to check everything properly like you did yesterday, an action that nearly resulted in the death of a doctor, he won't be able to actually harm me. Now I have the panic button if something happens, so I am asking you politely to wait outside."

The guards, looking actually ashamed after hearing me reprimanding them, took some time to once again check the prisoner's binds before they hesitantly vacated the room, and I saw that Victor actually looked at me rather curiously, through the burning anger in his eyes was still present. "All right, Victor," I started, staring at him nervously while trying to form the sentences correctly in my mind. "Yesterday you said that you were going to... liberate the doctor from her existence. You have to know that there was once a time when I would come to you for such liberation willingly…" I said slowly, my eyes gradually lowering to my hands as I did, thinking back at the times that I was going to confide about to the killer in front of me. I heard no response to this revelation, but when I raised my eyes to his, I was surprised to see a slight shock in them as he processed the information waiting for to elaborate.

"See, when I was young I never had many friends. Not that I was particularly bullied, at least not in the physical sense, most of the time I was just ignored because I was always different from the others, I was that weird, shy kid in the corner that nobody was interested to have anything to do with really. The few people I could call friends weren't really friends at all, just people I met with on regular basis. Later I began studying psychology because it seemed interesting to me, the mysteries and secrets of the human mind, but all in all I had no idea what I wanted to do in my life and I was just... drifting through it not knowing if there was any purpose, or sense in my existence. I think I did think of myself as something of a zombie," I grimaced, remembering the term he so liked to use. "but then I met Harley, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a real friend. And when she suggested that we should go work here, something that I would never come up with myself, and I wasn't sure of it, not at first, not particularly even when I came here the first day, but with every day I spend here…" I stopped here for a second to catch my breath, thinking about how to put the next part together, and I looked up at Victor Zsasz staring at me, listening intently, the anger in his eyes suddenly gone.

"I... I shouldn't be saying this." I started tensely. "It's wrong, but it's the way things are now, and I think it's too late for me to turn back now. I have found my purpose here in this asylum, Victor. I thought it was me being a doctor, helping you all find your way back to reality, but now I am not so sure. But the point is, the way I feel now…" I paused. "it's so strange I think, because I never felt like this, but being here, talking to all of you, it makes me feel happy, and it makes me feel like I finally have a reason to live, and so I…"

"don't want to be liberated anymore?" he finished my sentence for me and, to my surprise, I found out that the killer was actually smiling, his eyes gleaming again but this time, I did not feel threatened by it, the atmosphere in the room actually lifting. I smiled back at him shyly, not quite knowing why I shared all of that with him, but certainly being happy that I did, as it seemed to lift a lot of weight from my shoulders. "Oh, doctor, you must forgive me then." he said, his voice back to his usual soft tone, his demeanor now really calm as he stared at me. "It seemed in my anger I have made an error in my judgement of you. I should have trusted the Scarecrow when he stopped by earlier, saying how different you were from the others. Seems to me he was quite right."

I widened my eyes at the mention of Crane and I saw Zsasz smirking slightly as he saw my reaction. "He went to see you?" I asked in disbelief and he nodded. "Oh, yes, he did, doctor. It seems like the Master of Fear has taken a liking to you. That is a rare feat and certainly one that is going to be useful for you around here. I appologize for thinking you had anything to do with that oversized flying rodent, but now I can see that such person surely can't be you."

I smiled as I slowly calmed down, reading it in his eyes that, for now, I was not intended to be his target. I couldn't help but feel grateful to Crane that he would speak with Zsasz on my behalf, smiling at the thought that he actually used his time to try and keep the killer from murdering me. I suddenly glanced up as the door opened and a guard came to check on me, obviously concerned what I was doing alone with the killer in there for such a long time, and with a gesture of my hand and send him outside for a few more minutes, before I looked back at Victor. "Well, I am glad we had this opportunity to talk, and it was actually nice to meet with you. I once again appologize for what happened yesterday, whatever involvement I had in it, but you have to understand that I can't just let you, or anyone else for that matter, kill other people here, not when I work here as a doctor."

"Then don't." he answered simply, in a quiet voice while I looked at him in shock. "You can be whatever you want to be, doctor." he continued, his eyes looking into mine. "You told me that you thought being a doctor was your purpose, but that now you are not so sure, yet you also told me that being around us makes you feel happy." he said in a contemplative tone as he mused. "I will not kill you, doctor, for you are most certainly not a zombie, you just have to wake up."

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, to ask him what he meant, but he shook his head and at the same time, I heard an urgent knocking at the door as the guards on the other side became impatient. "Seems we have run out of time, doctor." he said. "You will understand what I mean soon enough. And since I know your revelation will happen soon I can promise you that until then, for your peace of mind, I will postpone the continuation of my mission. I want to be there when you, like I did before you, realise your fate. Until then, farewell." My eyes wide, I took a breath, wanting to speak with him more, but the look on his face told me that he won't say anything else, and so I reluctantly send him back to his cell.

I had a lot to think about after he left, as I quite couldn't believe what I just heard. Did the insane killer who never shied away from an opportunity to kill actually promised me that he won't, just so I can... what exactly? Everywhere I looked something seemed to stare straight into my face, as if something was expected of me and yet I just couldn't put my finger on it. Then, an hour later, Crane came to my office and though I have spend a lot of time with him yesterday, I still surprised myself by just how pleased I was to see him. When I thanked him for what he did for me concerning Zsasz's potential deadly grudge against me, he shrugged it off as nothing but a courtesy since he knew I really had nothing to do with Zsasz's incarceration, the incident earning the killer some time in solitary, which did not do much good for his mood either. It surprised me how I was suddenly incredibly tolerant of the fact that a man I knew to be a dangerous criminal was running around after closing hours, actually having a stash of poisonous gas at his disposal. If you think me to be a bit dumb right now, yes, I most certainly was. I was naive, not because I couldn't see the danger he posed for society, but because I couldn't understand what all the signs were telling me. But, at that time, I was actually rather close.

After Crane was gone I decided to visit Harley over at her office to see if she wanted to have a lunch with me. I found her sitting in her chair, staring at her desk with a curious, sort of dreamy expression, and I looked down to see a thin vase with a single, red rose sitting inside it delicately. I looked at Harley as she glanced at me with surprise as if she only now registered my presence, but when she did, she smiled brightly at me, causing me to chuckle and smile back at her. "Lunch?" I asked simply, raising the package of sandwiches that I brought with me, and she nodded happily, before slipping of her chair to grab her own food from her bag. "Sure!" she laughed, as we headed outside, sitting on our favourite bench by the pier, looking out at the sea. I watched her expression carefully, and I could see that something was occupying her mind quite intensely.

"So," I said nonchalantly after a while. "Are you going to tell me who gave you that rose?" As soon as the words left my mouth I saw her blush furiously as she looked on the ground below us and whispered. "I... can you keep a secret?" she said quietly, her voice strangely hesitant, it was a way I've never heard her speak before, and I felt a tinge of worry at her tone. Trying to humour the situation, I answered: "Sure, but, I don't see the big deal. Don't tell me it's from the Joker." I chuckled, but then I saw her expression as she raised her head to look at me, and I gasped. "Wait... it is from the Joker?" She nodded, biting her lower lip nervously as she looked at me, probably expecting me to freak out or something. "Harley... I don't quite know what to say." I said carefully. "You either are very lucky that he likes you, or you are, to put it bluntly, royally screwed, whatever this could possibly be." At that, she squirmed on the bench, shaking her head uncomfortably. "Also, you do realise what this means, right? I can put up with a lot, but I'm not how I feel about the Joker getting out of his cell, if only to put a flower on your table." And I really wasn't. I mean the Riddler, with whom I felt an instant friendship from the beginning, the Scarecrow certainly, we've been getting along better with every minute we've spent together, but the Joker?

Suddenly though, my thought were interrupted as Harley shifted closer to me, her voice an octave higher than what it normally was. "Please tell me you're not gonna say anything, Katie, please, he would be in big trouble if anybody found out. Please…" she begged, and I noticed the way she called me, Katie, which was something she's never done before... I shook my head then and replied: "All right, I won't, I... I have caught the Riddler out of his cell too." I admitted with a smile as I remembered the puzzle-loving rogue. "But this is different." I continued, turning serious again. "You gotta promise me you'll be careful, Harley. Whatever he wants with you, it most certainly will be dangerous."

I left her then, frowning as a headache slowly developed behind my eyelids with so many heavy thoughts on my mind, and not having anything to do now I walked though the ground, gradually making my way to the Penitentiary without even realising it. I blinked as I found myself in front of the building, and then, deciding quickly, I slipped inside, walking through the corridors with purpose. I had a feeling something big was going to happen soon, and if I was to be in the center of it, I might have as well been prepared for it. What I was about to do was crazy, but my day have been, so far, quite weird as it was, so why not make it even weirder? At least, those were the thoughts that ran through my head as I rounded the corner a approached the cell, intending to have a little chat with the Clown Prince of Crime himself.

He was currently sitting on his bed, his back towards the glass, so I could only see his bright green hair, and so I cautiously stepped closer and spoke: "You know what I like about you?" I asked, a lot more nervously than I wanted to sound, so I shook my head and smiled, trying again. "You always have that big smile on your face, it brightens this place up considerably. Truly, I know this place must be a bore for you, but if you were to leave, I'd truly miss hearing you laugh every time I passed through here. Have you ever been truly sad I wonder?"

He whipped his head around when he heard my voice initially, and that huge, bright grin I just praised spread across his face. He was a truly strange, but utterly fascinating man, his evil nature was evident when you looked into his eyes so gleaming with malicious thoughts, but there was an air of certain childishness around him when he moved, the way he preferred to jump and dance around, the clown was always brimming with energy, his brain always working at high speed. Perhaps that was the reason why he was always so unpredictable, because his personality was just as changeable as his mood swings. In his better days you would come into the Penitentiary and he would crack jokes to make you laugh, because he honestly liked when people laughed because of him, one way or another, in his worst, well, in those days you were lucky you were on the other side of the glass. The worst part was, it was practically impossible to tell what kind of Joker you'd get in the next minute.

Right now though he seemed to be happy to have some company, or rather, some audience. "Oh, doc, so nice of you to drop in! Have you actually come all the way from the big house just to check up on me? I am so touched." He put his hand on his heart, faking embarrassment and I had to giggle. It was impossible how sweet he could be when he wanted to put a show, and it was also impossible not to like him at these moments. "Hmm…" he pretended to think for a minute, putting a finger on his chin. "Yes, I think I can recall a time when I felt quite down, it was once when I really wanted to shoot one of my henchmen with his own gun, and found out that the fool hasn't had it loaded. It ruined the punchline completely! But then, I said what the heck, used the gun as a club and beat him down with it!" he roared with laughter, the force of it so much he actually fell down from his cot, making me chuckle. "I actually found that even funnier then, there were loads of blood everywhere. You really should have seen it doc." he said when he calmed down a bit and I rolled my eyes slightly, shaking my head. "I don't know why, but that was actually really funny." I admitted, and his eyes lit up.

"Weeell, doc, maybe you are just a teeny bit crazy like the rest of us here. There's really nothing wrong with it, you know, think of all the fun you can have when you let yourself go just a little bit looney. The world is too much of a dark place to think otherwise." his voice suddenly darkened. "Only the Batman can't seem to ever understand the reality of it, always clinging to the thought that sanity is the only way roll with the world. He lies to himself thinking that he's better than us, when he teeters on the same line separating us from the rest of humanity..." he spoke, mumbling to himself rather than speaking to me in particular, and it surprised me how serious he sounded.

"To tell you the truth." I began carefully. "I don't really like him either. He may have done a lot for this city, and that is certainly commendable, but it seems to me the man has too many unsolved anger issues to be ever truly trustworthy."

"Oh so you agree with me?" the Joker replied excitedly. "Why, you truly are a clever little thing, doc. You know who he is just as much as I do. He makes everyone think that him playing a hero, beating everyone to a bloody pulp on the floor will ever change anything, when he knows it's not ever going to be true, and yet every time I try to prove him wrong he locks me in this place." his ranting suddenly stopped, and he looked at me, continuing in a much lighter tone as if someone flipped a switch in his head. "But you have it all wrong, doc, this place is not a bore for me, not at all, it's actually a lot of fun to be back here! It's the home sweet home I never had as a child." he shook his head and sighed, a bit of fake sadness finding its way into his voice, but then he chuckled as he looked back at me. "Of course, the room service here has never been the best around here, but the company has certainly got better. You seem to be my kind of gal, clever little doctor, and your friend, the little harlequin, she's just perfect, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh yeah." I snorted in amusement. "I actually just spoke to her a few moments ago. You made quite an impression." I said, making him laugh. "Well, what can I say, doc, I'm a charmer." he said darkly. "Next time you see her, tell her to visit me again sometimes. I can't wait for another of our little talks." There was something really disturbing about the smile he gave me next, and I had to suppress a shudder as I looked at him, so I decided it would be best to leave, as I remembered I still had some unfinished business to attend to anyway. On the way to my office I had to make a small detour to fetch some documents I was requested to fill out for the warden, and when I finally arrived there, I narrowed my eyes as I felt like there was something very different about the room that I previously left. I couldn't put my finger on what it was until I saw the small, green envelope sitting on my desk and I gasped slightly as I realised someone was in my office during the time I was away. Cautiously, I lifted the envelope and opened it, the particular colouring giving away the identity of the sender before I actually read the letters inside. It was a one simple line, written in black ink, a riddle:

WHAT HAS BRANCHES AND LEAVES, BUT NO BARK?

I stared at the riddle for a while, mulling over the answer until, after a while, I managed to figure it out and it made me smile at the thought of how much the Riddler loved to play with words. Now even without a bark it still could mean some plant of sorts, but plants without any bark usually didn't have any branches either, so it must have been something else. As my eyes travel around the room for an inspiration, they eventually landed on a small bookshelf in the corner I smiled as an idea suddenly hit me over the head like an anvil. When you said leaf, you didn't necessarily have to mean the green one growing on trees and other plants, but also, in fact, a page from a book or notebook that you could use to write on. Considering now that the branch must have something to do with books, I arrived at the conclusion that the only answer he could have had in mind for me was a library, and so I made my way there as swiftly as I could.

"Well, well, well, it seems the Dark Knight may have a competition as Gotham's greatest detective." boomed the Riddler's voice seconds after I entered the room. I was standing at the same spot where I was standing yesterday, though, right now, the place was empty and very quiet, until the rogue himself stepped from the shadows. He was dressed in his full Riddler attire, looking rather handsome in all that green, and there was a cheerful spring in his step. "Going somewhere?" I smiled at him, and he grinned. "Oh, however did you guess, Katherine?" he said with a chuckle. "You see, I decided that you were right, this place is really bad for my mental health, especially with that doctor Thomas around, better not dwell on him, right? So I'm taking a "vacation" from the therapy, for an indefinite period of time. But…" he said, smiling at me brightly, "you have proven yourself to be a rather interesting person, so I wanted to say goodbye personally, and give you a little parting gift before I go." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small object and placed it in my hand. It was round and made of metal and it looked like a miniature speaker with several buttons attached to it. "It's a communication device." he explained. "Place it in your ear, no one's gonna notice it under your long hair. I'll be able to talk to you through this, and you'll be able to reach me, or you can set it to catch whatever other frequency you want to listen to. It's actually very sensitive, it will pick up everything except for the truly highly encrypted signals."

I looked at the the thing in my hand and than at the Riddler with amazement. I wasn't quite sure what to say. "Edward, I... thank you, but, why would you do that for me?" I asked, slightly bewildered. Here he was, giving me his trust, when I could have just as easily given this to the Batman or the police.

"I can see great potential in you, Katherine." he replied cryptically, smiling, an unreadable expression on his face. "You know what is strange?" he continued then, ignoring the questioning look I threw at him. "I pretty much told you where I was going to be, and yet you came straight here, without any guards to accompany you." he said, faking confusion. "Why, it's almost like you don't want me to escape."

"It's true that I don't want you to leave." I said quietly, and then I added, seeing the Riddler frown. "But only because I'll miss you. I'm happy that I can call you my friend. Of course you can go wherever you want. I mean why should I even risk my life trying to stop you, right? I'm a doctor, it's not my job to catch escaped criminals. If the guards can't keep you here themselves, why should I help them." I mused, and his frown turned into a cheerful smile as he laughed. "Oh, Katherine, those are some good points indeed. It's always refreshing to meet someone who isn't a blathering simpleton like most of the people here. Now listen closely." he suddenly turned serious. "I don't know what or when it will happen, but there is an event scheduled to happen on these very group, some big party for the Batman that the Joker is planning. He hasn't been exactly talkative about the details, but it's probably better if you are not here when that happens. I will contact you if I learn something new." I nodded in understanding. "But, if you are interested in helping me," he continued. "I never quite got to finish that grand challenge of mine that I told you about, and now I won't have the time anymore. So, if you want to liven up your stay at this island a little bit, head to the ruins in the northern part of the island, you'll find my stash in a hatch behind one of the walls. Put them wherever you like, I already placed the more complicated ones, you just have to find some good spots for the rest. The Joker shall be a fitting distraction, and this time the Batman will never be able to find all my riddles." he laughed devilishly at the thought of outsmarting the Bat once and for all, though I had the feeling he might be in for some great disappointment. Still, when he left, I did as he asked, and in the old, crumbling ruins, hidden so cleverly I couldn't get to it without getting a lot of scratches and bruises climbing over the stones, I was surprised to find a hatch leading to a room under the ground that was once perhaps a store room, but now it served as the Riddler's secret hideout. There, in a corner, I found a pile of green glowing question marks, small, really nice mechanical toys, and over the course of the next few days I spend my free time trying to find some nice, creative places to put them, and even though I knew that these were going to be the easiest of the trophies for the Batman to find, I still had a lot of fun while doing it.


End file.
